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Abraham Cowley
Quote #23
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blush'd before.
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Words that weep and tears that speak.
Thus would I double my life's fading space; For he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
Charm'd with the foolish whistling of a name.
Awake, awake, my Lyre! And tell thy silent master's humble tale In sounds that may prevail; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire: Though so …
Hence, ye profane! I hate ye all, Both the great vulgar and the small.
Build yourself a book-nest to forget the world without.
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
Life is an incurable disease.
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