Ben Jonson Quotes

It is an art to have so much judgment as to apparel a lie well, to give it a good dressing.

A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.

Yet must I not give nature all: thy art, My gentle Shakspeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion. And that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine arc) and strike the second heat Upon the muses anvil; turn the fame, And himself with it, that he thinks to frame; Or for the laurel, he may gain a scorn, For a good poet's made, as well as born. And such wert thou. Look how the father's face Lives in his issue, even so the race Of Shakspeare's mind and manners brightly shines In his well-turned, and true filed lines: In each of which he seems to shake a lance, As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance.

Sweet swan of Avon! what a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza, and our James. But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere Advanc'd, and made a constellation there! Shine forth, thou star of poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd like night, And despairs day, but for thy volumes light.

Language most shews a man: Speak, that I may see thee.

A cripple in the way out-travels a footman or a post out of the way.

Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse,— Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. Death, ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.

Follow a shadow, it still flies you; Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you.

Calumnies are answered best with silence.

I loved the man and do honor his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any.

drink to the cause, and pure vapours

For if I thought my judgment were of years, I should commit thee surely with thy peers, And tell how far thou didst our Lily outshine, Or sporting Kyd, or Marlow's mighty line. And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek, From thence to honour thee, I will not seek For names…

You may go in and search, sir. Here I find
The empty walls worse than I left 'em, smoked;
A few cracked pots and glasses, and a furnace;
The ceiling filled with poesies of the candle,
And madam with a dildo writ o' the walls.

Do not I know if women have a will
They'll do 'gainst all the watches o'the world?

(2. 7. 8-9)

Poor wretches! I rather pity their folly and indiscretion, than their loss of time and money; for these may be recovered by industry: but to be a fool born is a disease incurable.