315 Quotes by Ben Jonson

Still to be neat, still to be drest, / As you were going to a feast.

That for which all virtue now is sold, and almost every vice- almighty gold

It holds for good polity ever, to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, which inwardly is most dear to us.

How Fortune piles her sports when she begins to practise them!

Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast, Still to be powder'd, all perfum'd. Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound.

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; / Yet slower yet, O faintly, gentle springs.

My thoughts and I were of another world.

The fear of every man that heard him was, lest he should make an end.

A good poet's made as well as born.