4 Quotes by George Wither

Yea, now I see, methinks what weak and vainSupporters I have sought, to help sustainMy fainting heart; when injurious handWould undermine the station where I stand.Methinks I see how scurvy, and how baseIt is, to scrape for favors and for graceTo men of earthly minds, and unto thoseWho may, perhaps, before to-morrow, loseTheir wealth, or their abused authority,And stand as much in want of help as I.

Without the door let sorrow lie,And if for cold it hap to die,We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,And evermore be merry.

Little said is soonest mended.

Night begins to muffle up the day.