John Donne (/ˈdʌn/ DUN) (22 January 1572 – 31 March 1631) was an English poet and a cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. His works are noted for their strong, sensual style and include sonnets, love poems, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially compared to that of his contemporaries. Donne's style is characterised by abrupt openings and various paradoxes, ironies and dislocations. These features, along with his frequent dramatic or everyday speech rhythms, his tense syntax and his tough eloquence, were both a reaction against the smoothness of conventional Elizabethan poetry and an adaptation into English of European baroque and mannerist techniques. His early career was marked by ... More
John Donne Quotes
John Donne #Age #War
God employs several translators some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
John Donne #Art
Art is the most passionate orgy within man's grasp.
John Donne #Beauty
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
John Donne #Beauty
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
John Donne #Death
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee.
John Donne #God
He must pull out his own eyes, and see no creature, before he can say, he sees no God He must be no man, and quench his reasonable soul, before he can say to himself, there is no God.
John Donne #Love
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
John Donne #Motivational
Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.
John Donne #Nature
Nature's great masterpiece, an elephant the only harmless great thing.
John Donne #Poetry
I am two fools, I know, for loving, and for saying so in whining poetry.
John Donne #Art #Death
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
John Donne #Faith
Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right.
John Donne #Sad
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.