Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none. — John Donne Copy Share Image
Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, then idiot with none. — John Donne Copy Share Image
Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy… — John Donne Copy Share Image
The world is a great volume, and man the index of that book; even in the body of man, you may turn… — John Donne Copy Share Image
That subtle knot which makes us man So must pure lovers souls descend T affections, and to faculties, Which sense may reach… — John Donne Copy Share Image
To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent; to a competent I must answer. — John Donne Copy Share Image
Let not thy divining heart Forethink me any ill; Destiny may take thy part, And may thy fears fulfill. — 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
