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Thomas Dekker quotes
Honest labour bears a lovely face.
Thomas Dekker
This principle is old, but true as fate,- Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate.
Thomas Dekker
We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.
Thomas Dekker
QUEEN: But Hymen's torch, held downward, shall drop out, And for it, the mad Furies swing their brands About the bride-chamber.
Thomas Dekker
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet content! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd? O punishment!
Thomas Dekker
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles awake you when you rise.
Thomas Dekker
A mask of gold hides all deformities.
Thomas Dekker
Age is like love, it cannot be hid.
Thomas Dekker
Cast away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy tomorrow; Money is trash, and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.
Thomas Dekker
ALANZO: Wrongs, like great whirlwinds, Shake highest battlements. Few for heaven would care, Should they be ever happy.
Thomas Dekker
ONAELIA:You are like common beadles, apt to lash Almost to death poor wretches not worth striking, But fawn with slavish flattery on damned vices So great men act them. You clap hands at those, Where the true poet indeed doth scorn to gild A gaudy tomb with glory of his verse, Which coffins stinking carrion.
Thomas Dekker
I was ne'er so thrummed since I was a gentleman.
Thomas Dekker
KING: I am full of thoughts, A thousand wheels toss my incertain fears, There is a storm in my hot boiling brains, Which rises without wind. A horrid one.
Thomas Dekker
A wise man poor Is like a sacred book that's never read,- To himself he lives, and to all else seems dead. This age thinks better of a gilded fool Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school.
Thomas Dekker
To add to golden numbers golden numbers.
Thomas Dekker
BALTHAZAR: Subjects may stumble, when kings walk astray. Thine acts shall be a new Apocrypha.
Thomas Dekker
BALTHAZAR: I have a private coat for Italian stilettos, I can be treacherous with the Walloon, drunk with the Dutch, a chimney-sweeper with the Irish, a gentleman with the Welsh and true arrant thief with the English. What then is my country to me?
Thomas Dekker
BALTHAZAR: Sin is a raven croaking her own fall.
Thomas Dekker
The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer; A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breathed.
Thomas Dekker
ONAELIA: What sort of poets are there? POET: Two sorts lady: The great poets and the small poets. ONAELIA: Great and small! Which do you call the great? The fat ones?
Thomas Dekker
Turn over a new leaf.
Thomas Dekker