Inspirational Quotes by John Donne

“It was part of Adam's punishment, In the sweat of thy brows thou shalt eat thy bread: it is multiplied to me, I have earned bread in the sweat of my brows, in the labour of my calling, and I have it; and I sweat again and again, from the brow to the sole of the foot, but I eat no bread, I taste no sustenance: miserable distribution of mankind, where one half lacks meat, and the other stomach!”

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, (...) One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. (Sonnet X, 1609)”

“Are not heavens joyes as valiant to asswage Lusts, as earths honour was to them?”

“No man is an island entirely of itself. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.”

“Contemplative and bookish men must of necessity be more quarrelsome than others, because neither do they contend about matters of fact nor can they determine their controversies by any certain witnesses or judges.”

“I sing the progress of a deathless soul, Whom Fate, which God made, but doth not control, Placed in most shapes; all times before the law Yoked us, and when, and since, in this I sing. And the great world to his aged evening, From infant morn, through manly noon I draw.”

“That this world’s general sickness doth not lie In any humour, or one certain part; But as thou sawest it rotten at the heart, Thou seest a hectic fever hath got hold Of the whole substance, not to be controlled, And that thou hast but one way, not to admit The world’s infection, to be none of it.”

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, For, those, whome thou think’st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me; From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.”

“For the first twenty years, since yesterday, I scarce believed thou could'st be gone away; For forty more, I fed on favors past, And forty' on hopes, that thou would'st they might last. Tears drowned one hundred, and sighs blew out two; A thousand, I did neither think, nor do, Or not divide, all being one thought of you; Or, in a thousand more, forget that too. Yet call not this, long life, but think that I Am, by being dead, immortal; can ghosts die?”

“To adore, or scorne an image, or protest, May all be bad; doubt wisely, in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleepe, or runne wrong, is: on a huge hill, Cragg'd, and steep, Truth stands, and hee that will Reach her, about must, and about must goe; And what the hills suddenes resists, winne so; Yet strive so, that before age, deaths twilight, Thy Soule rest, for none can worke in that night.”

“Atlas There is a kind of love callend maintenance, Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it; Which checks the insurance, and doesn't forget The milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs; Which answers letters; which knows the way The money goes; which deals with dentists And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains, And postcards to the lonely; which upholds The permanently rickety elaborate Structures of living; which is Atlas. And maintenance is the sensible side of love, Which knows what time and weather are doing To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring; Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps My suspect edifice upright in air, As Atlas did the sky.”

“What virtue is it that is born with us? Much less can honor be ascribed thereto, Honor is purchased by the deeds we do. Believe me, Hero, honor is not won, Until some honorable deed be done. ----From “Hero and Leander, Sestiad I”

“O that these folding arms might ne'er undo!”

“Love always makes those eloquent that have it. ---From "Hero and Leander, Sestiad II”

“Thus Time, and all-states-ordering Ceremony Had banished all offense: Time’s golden thigh Upholds the flowery body of the earth In sacred harmony, and every birth Of men and actions makes legitimate, Being used aright. The use of time is Fate. ---From “Hero and Leander, Sestiad III”

“What poore Elements are our happinesses made off, if Tyme, Tyme which wee can scarce consider to be any thing, be an essential part of our happines?”

“One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more, death thou shalt die.”

“More than kisses, letters mingle souls”

“Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.”

“زیرا من همه آن چیزهای مرده‌ام. آنکه در او عشق کیمیای جدیدی آفرید. زیرا هنرش براستی عصاره‌ی نیستی را بیان می‌کرد، از دل محرومیتهای ملال‌آور و پوچی نزار: او مرا تباه کرد، و من باز زاده شدم از دل غیبت، تاریکی، مرگ؛ چیزهایی که نیستند.”