More from Francis Quarles

  1. We spend our midday sweat, our midnight oil; We tire the night in thought, the day in toil.
  2. The slender debt to Nature's quickly paid, Discharged, perchance, with greater ease than made.
  3. Sweet Phosphor, bring the day Whose conquering ray May chase these fogs; Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Ligh…
  4. The road to resolution lies by doubt: The next way home's the farthest way about.
  5. This house is to be let for life or years; Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears. Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known, S…
  6. The next way home's the farthest way about.
  7. Death aims with fouler spite At fairer marks.
  8. It is the lot of man but once to die.

All Francis Quarles quotes