Philip Sidney, fully Sir Philip Sidney

Sidney, fully Sir Philip Sidney

English Poet, Scholar, Soldier and Courtier

Author Quotes

What is birth to a man if it be a stain to his dead ancestors to have left such an offspring?

Youths will never live to age unless they keep themselves in breath by exercise, and in heart by joyfulness. Too much thinking doth consume the spirits; and oft it falls out, that while one thinks too much of doing, he fails to do the effect of his thinking.

There is nothing truly evil, but what is within us; the rest is cither natural or accidental.

What is mine, even to my life, is hers I love; but the secret of my friend is not mine.

There needs not strength to be added to inviolate chastity; the excellency of the mind makes the body impregnable.

Whatever comes out of despair cannot bear the title of valor, which should be lifted up to such a height, that holding all things under itself, it should be able to maintain its greatness, even in the midst of miseries.

This is the right conceit of young men, who think then they speak wiseliest when they cannot understand themselves.

When it shall please God to bring thee to man's estate, use great providence and circumspection in choosing thy wife. For from thence will spring all thy future good or evil; and it is an action of life, like unto a stratagem of war, wherein a man can err but once!

Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?

Whether your time calls you to live or die do both like a prince.

Thou blind man's mark, thou fool's self-chosen snare, Fond Fancy's scum and dregs of scattered thought, Band of all evils, cradle of causeless care, Thou web of will whose end is never wrought; Desire! desire, I have too dearly bought With price of mangled mind thy worthless ware;

Who doth desire that chaste his wife should be, first be he true, for truth doth truth deserve.

Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart and write!

Who shoots at the mid-day sun, though he be sure he shall never hit the mark, yet as sure he is he shall shoot higher than who aims but at a bush.

Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.

Who will adhere to him that abandons himself?

It many times falls out that we deem ourselves much deceived in others, because we first deceived ourselves.

O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness!

Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea! How did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea

Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust, And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust; Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings.

O take fast hold; let that light be thy guide In this small course which birth draws out to death,

That only disadvantage of honest hearts, credulity.

In actions of life, who seeth not the filthiness of evil wanteth a great foil to perceive the beauty of virtue.

Let here his eyes be raised

Oft have I mused, but now at length I find, Why those that die, men say they do depart.

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Sidney, fully Sir Philip Sidney
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English Poet, Scholar, Soldier and Courtier