Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life. — John Donne Copy Share Image
All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the… — John Donne Copy Share Image
For I am every dead thing In whom love wrought new alchemy For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness,… — John Donne Copy Share Image
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls;… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me;… — John Donne Copy Share Image
We asked none leave to love; nor will we owe Any, so cheap a death, as saying, Go. — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so.” — John Donne Copy Share Image
“ Death Be Not Proud Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think'st… — John Donne Copy Share Image
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Doth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfil All offices of death, except to kill. — John Donne Copy Share Image
Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfill all the offices of death, except to kill — John Donne Copy Share Image
I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to… — John Donne Copy Share Image
All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Love is strong as death; but nothing else is as strong as either; and both, love and death, met in Christ. How… — John Donne Copy Share Image
And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet? — John Donne Copy Share Image
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life. — John Donne Copy Share Image
All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but… — John Donne Copy Share Image
We study health, and we deliberate upon our meats and drink and air and exercises, and we hew and we polish every stone that… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Various content To your eyes, ears, and tongue, and every part. If then your body go, what need you a heart? — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ; That I may rise,… — John Donne Copy Share Image
That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither; but an obscenity. — John Donne Copy Share Image
For I am every dead thing In whom love wrought new alchemy For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull… — John Donne Copy Share Image
As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and… — John Donne Copy Share Image
All Kings, and all their favorites, All glory of honors, beauties, wits, The sun itself, which makes times, as they pass, Is elder by… — John Donne Copy Share Image
