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Ben Jonson quotes - page 2
Still may syllabes jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
Ben Jonson
The Devil is an Ass, I do acknowledge it.
Ben Jonson
Memory, of all the powers of the mind, is the most delicate and frail.
Ben Jonson
Opinion is a light, vain, crude, and imperfect thing.
Ben Jonson
A good life is a main argument.
Ben Jonson
He was not of an age, but for all time!
Ben Jonson
It is an art to have so much judgment as to apparel a lie well, to give it a good dressing.
Ben Jonson
Ambition makes more trusty slaves than need.
Ben Jonson
The burnt child dreads the fire.
Ben Jonson
In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Ben Jonson
It is as great a spite to be praised in the wrong place, and by a wrong person, as can be done to a noble nature.
Ben Jonson
Greatness of name in the father oft-times overwhelms the son they stand too near one another. The shadow kills the growth so much, that we see the grandchild come more and oftener to be heir of the first.
Ben Jonson
That for which all virtue now is sold, and almost every vice- almighty gold.
Ben Jonson
Where dost thou careless lie, Buried in ease and sloth? Knowledge that sleeps, doth die; And this security, It is the common moth, That eats on wits and arts, and oft destroys them both.
Ben Jonson
Thy praise or dispraise is to me alike; One doth not stroke me, nor the other strike.
Ben Jonson
There shall be no love lost.
Ben Jonson
It must be done like lightning.
Ben Jonson
Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast.
Ben Jonson
Lady: How do's it fit? wilt come together? Prudence: Hardly. Lad: Thou must make shift with it. Pride feels no Pain.
Ben Jonson
The ports of death are sins; of life, good deeds: Through which our merit leads us to our meeds. How willful blind is he then, that would stray, And hath it in his powers, to make his way! This world death's region is, the other life's: And here, it should be one of our first strifes, So to front death, as men might judge us past it. For good men but see death, the wicked taste it.
Ben Jonson
Soul of the age! The applause! delight! The wonder of our stage!
Ben Jonson
Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse,- Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. Death, ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Ben Jonson
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