Rather do what is nothing to the purpose than be idle; that the devil may find thee doing. The bird that sits… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
What money creates, money preserves: if thy wealth decays, thy honor dies; it is but a slippery happiness which fortunes can give,… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The birds of the air die to sustain thee; the beasts of the field die to nourish thee; the fishes of the… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
We sack, we ransack to the utmost sands Of native kingdoms, and of foreign lands: We travel sea and soil; we pry,… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger In these false coasts; O keep aloof; there's danger; Cast forth thy… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
Be neither too early in the fashion, nor too long out of it, nor too precisely in it; what custom hath civilized is become… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The World's a Printing-House, our words, our thoughts, Our deeds, are characters of several sizes. Each soul is a Compos'tor, of whose faults The… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
Luxury is an enticing pleasure, a bastard mirth, which hath honey in her mouth, gall in her heart, and a sting in her tail. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
Deliberate long before thou consecrate a friend, and when thy impartial justice concludes him worthy of thy bosom, receive him joyfully, and entertain him… — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
What treasures here do Mammon's sons behold! Yet know that all that which glitters is not gold. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
Meditation is the life of the soul: Action, the soul of meditation; and honor the reward of action. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The world is deceitful; her end is doubtful, her conclusion is horrible, her judge terrible, and her judgment is intolerable. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading, as I had in the writing. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The suburbs of folly is vain mirth, and profuseness of laughter is the city of fools. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The fountain of beauty is the heart and every generous thought illustrates the walls of your chamber. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
The strong desires of man's insatiate breast may stand possess'd Of all that earth can give; but earth can give no rest. — Francis Quarles Copy Share Image
