John Suckling Quotes
John Suckling offers wistful, lyrical reflections that drift between love, fate, and lofty ideas.
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Why so pale and wan, fond lover Prithee, why so pale?
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Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
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Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she cannot love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!
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If I a fancy take To black and blue, That fancy doth it beauty make.
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'Tis now since I sat down before That foolish fort, a heart, (Time strangely spent) a year, and more, And still I did my part:
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Oh for some honest lover's ghost, Some kind unbodied post Sent from the shades below! I strangely long to know Whether the nobler chaplets wear Those that their mistress' scorn did bear, Or those that were used kindly.
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Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light; But oh, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight.
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Her lips were red, and one was thin; Compared with that was next her chin,- Some bee had stung it newly.
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'T is expectation makes a blessing dear; Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were.
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She is pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on.
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Her face is like the milky way i' the sky,-
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But as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own,
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The prince of darkness is a gentleman.
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Nick of time.
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'High characters,' cries one, and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor e'er will be.
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Success is a rare paint, hides all the ugliness.
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A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. . . . . As much to the lively grey 'Tis as good i' th' night as day: . . . . She's a savour to the glass, And excuse to make it pass.
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Opportunity, to statesmen, is as the just degree of heat to chemists; it perfects all the work.
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Tis love in love that makes the sport.
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Abruptness is an eloquence in parting, when spinning out the time is but the weaving of new sorrow.
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Our sins, like to our shadows, when our day was in its glory, scarce appeared; toward our evening, how great and monstrous!
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A quiet mediocrity is still to be preferred before a troubled superfluity.
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I prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why, then, shouldst thou have mine?
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Out upon it, I have loved Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather.
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Beauties that from worth arise are like the grace of deities.
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Tis not the meat, but 'tis the appetite makes eating a delight.
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Joy never feasts so high as when the first course is of misery.