It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare , rise; I will not lodge thee by… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground Upon my flesh t'inflict another wound. Yet dare I not complain, or… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Language most shows a man; speak that I may see thee; it springs out of the most retired and inmost parts of… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear. — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Soul of the Age! The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser,… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Heaven prepares good men with crosses; but no ill can happen to a good man. — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
All discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private. — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Rich apparel has strange virtues; it makes him that hath it without means esteemed for an excellent wit; he that enjoys it with means… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Each petty hand Can steer a ship becalm'd; but he that will Govern and carry her to her ends, must know His tides, his… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
