Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
John DonneRead
Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die.
Interpretation
The speaker expresses a profound love that transcends the fear of loss, finding solace in the idea of playful deception about death.
In this quote, John Donne explores the complexity of love and mortality, conveying that his love is so deep that he does not seek to leave or replace it. Instead, he highlights the inevitability of death, suggesting that it might be wiser to embrace life with humor and lightness, even in the face of such profound truths.
In practice
This quote could be shared during a wedding speech to highlight the playful yet profound nature of true love.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity
All occasions invite His mercies, and all times are His seasons.
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned; alas; why should I be?
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.
I call not that virginity a virtue, which resideth onely in the bodies integrity; much less if it be with a purpose of perpetually keeping it: for then it is a most inhumane vice. - But I call that Virginity a virtue which is willing and desirous to yield it self upon honest and lawfull terms, when just reason requireth; and until then, is kept with a modest chastity of body and mind.
When the bride is one with her lover, who cares about the wedding party?
It's hard to love a woman and do anything.
All love will, one day, meet with its return. All true love will, one day, behold its own image in the eyes of the beloved, and be humbly glad.
To die for lack of love is horrible. The asphyxia of the soul.
His love for my mother wasn't about looking back and loving something that would never change. It was about loving my mother for everything -- for her brokenness and her fleeing, for her being there right then in that moment before the sun rose and the hospital staff came in. It was about touching that hair with the side of his fingertip, and knowing yet plumbing fearlessly the depths of her ocean eyes.
All Mattia saw was a shadow moving toward him. He instinctively closed his eyes and then felt Alice’s hot mouth on his, her tears on his cheek, or maybe they weren’t hers, and finally her hands, so light, holding his head still and catching all his thoughts and imprisoning them there, in the space that no longer existed between them.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.