Ben Jonson Quotes & Quotations

From his Poetical Works

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.
The Forest. To Celia.

That for which all virtue now is sold,
And almost every vice — almighty gold.
The Forest. Epistle to Elizabeth, Countess of Rutland.

For he that once is good, is ever great.
The Forest. Epistle to Katherine, Lady Aubigny.

Soul of the age,
The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage,
My Shakespeare, rise!
Underwood. To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare.

Though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek.
Underwood. To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare.

He was not of an age, but for all time!
Underwood. To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare.

For a good poet's made as well as born.
Underwood. To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare.

Sweet Swan of Avon!
Underwood. To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare.

Those that merely talk and never think,
That live in the wild anarchy of drink.
Underwood. To One that asked to be sealed of the Tribe of Ben.

In small proportions we just beauties see,
And in short measures life may perfect be.
Underwood. A Pindaric Ode.

From his Dramatic Works

Where it concerns himself,
Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.
Catiline. Act III. Sc. 1.

Bad men excuse their faults, good men will leave them.
Catiline. Act III. Sc. 2.

As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself.
Catiline. Act III. Sc. 5.

The burnt child dreads the fire.
The Devil is an Ass. Act I. Sc. 2.

The Devil is an ass, I do acknowledge it.
The Devil is an Ass. Act IV. Sc. 1.

If he were to be made honest by an act of parliament
I should not alter in my faith of him.
The Devil is an Ass. Act IV. Sc. 1.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free,—
Such sweet neglect more taketh me
Than all the adulteries of art:
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Epicoene. Act I. Sc. 1.

Hang sorrow! care'll kill a cat.
Every Man in his Humour. Act I. Sc. 3.

As he brews, so shall he drink.
Every Man in his Humour. Act II. Sc. 1.

Art hath an enemy called ignorance.
Every Man Out of his Humour. Act I. Sc. 1.

But I do hate him as I hate the devil.
Every Man Out of his Humour. Act I. Sc. 1.

There shall be no love lost.
Every Man Out of his Humour. Act II. Sc. 1.

To the old, long life and treasure;
To the young, all health and pleasure.
The Gypsies Metamorphosed. Third Song.

That old bald cheater, Time.
The Poetaster. Act I. Sc. 1.

Apes are apes though clothed in scarlet.
The Poetaster. Act V. Sc. 3.

Cut men's throats with whisperings.
Sejanus. Act I.

Of all wild beasts preserve me from a tyrant;
and of all tame, a flatterer.
Sejanus. Act I.

From his Prose Works

For he that was only taught by himself
had a fool to his master.
Timber: Or, Discoveries.

Whom the disease of talking still once possesseth,
he can never hold his peace.
Timber: Or, Discoveries.

Talking and eloquence are not the same thing:
to speak, and to speak well, are two things.
A fool may talk, but a wise man speaks.
Timber: Or, Discoveries.

A prince without letters is a pilot without eyes.
All his government is groping.
Timber: Or, Discoveries.

I remember, the players have often mentioned it
as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing
(whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line.
My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.
Timber: Or, Discoveries.

to Ben Jonson

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