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Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.

John Donne

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
JOHN DONNE

Break Breathe Force God Heart Myself Rise Seek
Man is not only a contributory creature, but a total creature; he does not only make one, but he is all; he is not a piece of the world, but the world itself, and next to the glory of God, the reason why there is a world.
JOHN DONNE

Creature Glory God Man Pieces Reason World
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.
JOHN DONNE

Affect Angel Flame Voice
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
JOHN DONNE

God Need Stand Suffering Thinking
As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.
JOHN DONNE

Determination Difference Quiet Weakness
Be more than man, or thou’rt less than an ant.
JOHN DONNE

Animal Man Worth Yourself
To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.
JOHN DONNE

Expression Feeling Grave Human Thinking Word
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
JOHN DONNE

Confusion Poor Soul
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
JOHN DONNE

Death God Kill Myself Poor Proud Thinking
Reason is our soul’s left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity
JOHN DONNE

Divine Hands Ourselves Reason Soul
How imperfect is all our knowledge!
JOHN DONNE

Knowledge Ourselves Perfection
Nature’s great masterpiece, an elephant; the only harmless great thing.
JOHN DONNE

Greatness Nature Pieces
Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though ‘Tis got by chance, ‘Tis kept by art.
JOHN DONNE

Art Hard Love Sick Sweet Treasure
Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.
JOHN DONNE

Art Build Creation Poetry
In heaven it is always autumn.
JOHN DONNE

Autumn Heaven Season
Love’s mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
JOHN DONNE

Body Book Grow Love Mystery Soul
Death is an ascension to a better library.
JOHN DONNE

Better Death Library
True joy is the earnest which we have of heaven, it is the treasure of the soul, and therefore should be laid in a safe place, and nothing in this world is safe to place it in.
JOHN DONNE

Heaven Joy Place Safety True World
And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
JOHN DONNE

Death Delicate Escape Wind
For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love.
JOHN DONNE

God Hold Kiss Love Myself Romance Sex Tongue Yourself
Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
JOHN DONNE

Death Diminish Freedom Kind Man
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
JOHN DONNE

Beginning Humility One Liner Satisfaction
I sing the progress of a deathless soul.
JOHN DONNE

Death Myself One Liner Progress Sing Soul
Only our love hath no decay; this, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, running it never runs from us away, but truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.
JOHN DONNE

Love Ourselves Run True
Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.
JOHN DONNE

Hell Solitude Threat
I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
JOHN DONNE

Angel Animal God Invitation Myself Noise Sound
If we consider eternity, into that time never entered; eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period; and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.
JOHN DONNE

Forever Parents Short Time

Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.

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Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.

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