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John Donne
Quote #84
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
More from John Donne
And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
He was the Word, that spake it: He took the bread and brake it; And what that Word did make it, I do believe and take it.
I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in and invite God and his angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his ange…
Now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon to illustrate all shadows,…
What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be sec…
No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, E…
How deepe do we dig, and for how coarse gold?
Hee drinkes misery, and he tastes happinesse; he mowes misery, and he gleanes happinesse; he journeys in misery, he does but walke in happi…
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