Anne Bradstreet Quotes

Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure/A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.

Sin and shame ever go together; he that would be freed from the last must be sure to shun the company of the first.

It is reported of the peacock that priding himself in his gay feathers he ruffles them up; but spying his black feet he soon lets fall his plumes. So he that glories in his gifts and adornings should look upon his corruptions, and that will damp his high thoughts.

Wisdom with an inheritance is good, but wisdom without an inheritance is better than an inheritance without wisdom.

There is no object that we see, no action that we do, no good that we enjoy, no evil that we feel of fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all.

O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,
That draws oblivion's curtains over kings;
Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not,
Their names without a record are forgot,
Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th' dust
Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time's rust;
But he whose name is graved in the white stone
Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.

My hope and treasure lies above

Compare with me, ye women, if you can

A prosperous state makes a secure Christian, but adversity makes him Consider.

But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.

I wish my Sun may never set, but burn.

Iron till it be thoroughly heated is incapable to be wrought; so God sees good to cast some men into the furnace of affliction, and then beats them on his anvil into what frame he pleases.

If ever wife was happy in a man, compare with me, ye women if you can.

Wickedness comes to its height by degrees. He that dares say of a less sin, Is it not a little one? will ere long say of a greater, Tush, God regards it not!

#The Vanity of all Worldly Things.

As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound"?
What isn't in honor to be set on high?
No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,
And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;
He's now a captive that was king of late.
What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain?
No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain.
He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow,
It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow?
What then? Content in pleasures canst thou find?
More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind.
The sensual senses for a time they pleasure,
Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease?
What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare,
They're foul enough today, that once were fair.
What is't in flow'ring youth, or manly age?
The first is prone to vice, the last to rage.
Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts?
Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts;
Yet these the wisest man of men did find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
And he that know the most doth still bemoan
He knows not all that here is to be known.
What is it then? To do as stoics tell,
Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well?
Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain,
While man is man, he shall hav

Fire hath its force abated by water, not by wind; and anger must be allayed by cold words, and not by blustering threats.

Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.

The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above.

The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold or all the riches that the East doth hold.

Satan, that great angler, hath his sundry baits for sundry tempers of men, which they all catch greedily at, but few perceive the hook till it be too late.

My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.

Let such as say our sex is void of reason,
Know it is slander now but once was treason.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench

Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.

What to my Saviour shall I giveWho freely hath done this for me?I'll serve him here whilst I shall liveAnd Loue him to Eternity

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
[Meditations Divine and Moral]

Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.

He that would be content with a mean condition must not cast his eye upon one that is in a far better estate than himself, but let him look upon him that is lower than he is, and, if he see that such a one bears poverty comfortably, it will help to quiet him.

We must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above.

To sing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings/Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun/For my mean Pen are too superior things,

Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.