425 Quotes by John Donne

But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.

I observe the physician with the same diligence as the disease.

That thou remember them, some claim as debt; I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.

I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call and invite God and his angels thither...

Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?

Yet nothing can to nothing fall, Nor any place be empty quite; Therefore I think my breast hath all Those pieces still, though they be not unite; And now, as broken glasses show A hundred lesser faces, so My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, But after one such love, can love no more.

At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity