Thomas Middleton


English Dramatist, Playwright and Poet

Author Quotes

A wondrous necessary man.

By many a happy accident.

Her fingers touched me! She smells all amber.

Like pearl dropt from the opening eyelids of the morn upon the bashful rose.

The slowest kiss makes too much haste.

When affection only speaks, truth is not always there.

All is not gold that glisteneth

Castiza: False! I defy you both! I have endured you with an ear of fire; Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face! Mother, come from that poisonous woman there. Gratiana: Where? Castiza: Do you not see her? She's too inward then.

Hold their nose to the grindstone.

Love is all in fire, and yet is ever freezing; Love is much in winning, yet is more in leesing: Love is ever sick, and yet is never dying; Love is ever true, and yet is ever lying; Love does doat in liking, and is mad in loathing; Love indeed is anything, yet indeed is nothing.

The strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.

When men's intents are wicked, their guilt haunts them, but when they are just they're arm'd, and nothing daunts them.

All was false and hollow, though his tongue Dropt manna, and could make the worst appear The better reason.

Faith, if the truth were known, I was begot after some gluttonous dinner; some stirring dish was my first father. When deep healths went round, and ladies' cheeks were painted red with wine, their tongues as short and nimble as their heels, uttering words sweet and thick, and when they rose were marrily disposed to fall again: Oh, damnation met the sin of feasts, drunken adultery! I feel it swell me; my revenge is just: I was begot in impudent wine and lust… As for my brother, the duke's only son, whose birth is more beholding to report than mine, and yet perhaps as falsely sown, I'll loose my days upon him, hate all I.

How fallen, how changed From him, who, in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads, though bright.

Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.

The treasures of the deep are not so precious as are the concealed comforts of a man locked up in woman's love.

Whilst we show reverence to yond peeping moon.

Alsemero: Oh, thou shouldst have gone a thousand leagues about to have avoided this dangerous bridge of blood; here we are lost.

For evil news rides post, while good news baits.

How many honest words have suffered corruption since Chaucer’s days!

Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.

The world ’s a stage on which all parts are played.

Who aspires must down as low As high he soar'd.

Alsemero: Peace, quench thy zeal; 'tis dangerous to thy bosom. Jasperino: Then truth is full of peril. Alsemero: Such truths are.

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English Dramatist, Playwright and Poet