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John Fletcher
There 's naught...
There 's naught in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see 't,
But only melancholy;
O sweetest...
Drink to-day, and...
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow;
You shall perhaps not do 't to-morrow.
Deeds, not words....
Deeds, not words.
Source: The Lover's Progress, Act iii. Sc. 4.
-- John...
I find the...
I find the medicine worse than the malady.
Source: Love's Cure, Act iii. Sc....
Hit the nail...
Hit the nail on the head.
Source: Love's Cure, Act ii. Sc. 1.
-- John Fletcher,...
Let's meet and...
Let's meet and either do or die.
Source: 'The Island Princess'
-- John Fletcher,...
Love's tongue is...
Love's tongue is in his eyes.
Source: Piscatory Eclogues, V. xiii
-- John...
Man is his...
Man is his own star; and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man
Commands all light, all influence,...
Love is like...
Love is like linen often changed, the sweeter.
Source: Sicelides, III. v
-- John...
Weep no more,...
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone;
Violets plucked, the sweetest...
There 's naught...
There 's naught in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see 't,
But only melancholy;
O sweetest...
Drink to-day, and...
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow;
You shall perhaps not do 't to-morrow.
Deeds, not words....
Deeds, not words.
Source: The Lover's Progress, Act iii. Sc. 4.
-- John...
I find the...
I find the medicine worse than the malady.
Source: Love's Cure, Act iii. Sc....
Hit the nail...
Hit the nail on the head.
Source: Love's Cure, Act ii. Sc. 1.
-- John Fletcher,...
Let's meet and...
Let's meet and either do or die.
Source: 'The Island Princess'
-- John Fletcher,...
Love's tongue is...
Love's tongue is in his eyes.
Source: Piscatory Eclogues, V. xiii
-- John...
Man is his...
Man is his own star; and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man
Commands all light, all influence,...
Love is like...
Love is like linen often changed, the sweeter.
Source: Sicelides, III. v
-- John...
Weep no more,...
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone;
Violets plucked, the sweetest...