English poet and playwright Ben Jonson was born in London in 1572. His father wanted him to continue the family tradition of laying bricks for a living, but Jonson was bored by the trade and went off to become an actor. In 1592, he married a woman and she gave birth to a son whom Jonson called his "best piece of poetry." In 1598, he killed a fellow actor in a duel, and went to prison, narrowly escaping a death sentence. He got out after a couple of years and wrote two of his greatest plays, Volpone (1607) and The Alchemist (1610). In 1616, he was so popular that he could publish a complete edition of his works, something playwrights almost never did at that time. He wrote, "No man is so wise that he may not easily err if he takes no other counsel than his own. He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master."
*True happiness consists not in the multitude of friends, but in the worth and choice.
*Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine
Ben Jonson quote
*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.
Say, are not women truly, then
Styled but the shadows of us men?
*There is no greater hell than to be a prisoner of fear.
*They say Princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship. The reason is, the brave beast is no flatterer. He will throw a prince as soon as his groom.
*Art hath an enemy called Ignorance.
*He knows not his own strength that has not met adversity.
*They that know no evil will suspect none.
*Good men are the stars, the planets of the ages wherein they live, and illustrate the times”
Honor's a good brooch to wear in a man's hat at all times.
*Weigh the meaning and look not at the words.
*PRAY thee, take care, that tak'st my book in hand,
To read it well—that is, to understand.
*II. — TO MY BOOK.
It will be look'd for, BOOK, when some but see
Thy title, EPIGRAMS, and named of me,
Thou shouldst be bold, licentious, full of gall,
Wormwood, and sulphur, sharp, and tooth'd withal ;
Become a petulent thing, hurl ink, and wit,
As madmen stones ; not caring whom they hit.
Deceive their malice, who could wish it so ;
And by thy wiser temper, let men know
Thou art not so covetous of least self-fame,
Made from the hazard of another's shame ;
Much less, with lewd, profane, and beastly phrase,
To catch the world's loose laughter, or vain gaze.
He that departs with his own honesty
For vulgar praise, doth it too dearly buy.
VI. — TO ALCHEMISTS.
If all you boast of your great art be true ;
Sure, willing poverty lives most in you.
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