Anne Bradstreet Quotations

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 desires.

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

Authority without wisdom is like a heavy ax without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish.

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

If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.

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.

Thou ill-form,d offspring of my feeble brain . . .

And time brings down what is both strong and tall. But plants new set to be eradicate, And buds new blown, to have so short a date, Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate.

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

The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection.

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.

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

Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending; a negligent youth is usually attended by an ignorant middle age, and both by an empty old age.

My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.

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

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

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

I happy am, if well with you.

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

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits,

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

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.

When I behold the heavens as in their prime, And then the earth (though old) still clad in green, The stones and trees, insensible of time, Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen

If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.

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.

The stones and trees, insensible to time, / Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen; / If Winter come, and greenness then do fade / A Spring returns, and they more youthful made; / But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue/ Who says my hand a needle better fits./ A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong/ For such despite they cast on female wits;/ If what I do prove well, it won't advance,/ They'll say it's stolen, or else, it was by chance.

That when we live no more, We may live ever

Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.

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

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.

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

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!

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

There is no object that we see; no action that we do; no good that we enjoy; no evil that we feel, or fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all: and he that makes such improvement is wise, as well as pious.

If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can I prize thy love more than whole mines of Gold. Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee, give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold repay, Then while we live, in love let's so persevere That when we live no more, we may live ever.

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

Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.

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

Authority without wisdom is like a heavy ax without an edge -- fitter to bruise than polish.

If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

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

My hope and treasure lies above

I wish my Sun may never set, but burn.

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

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.

If we had not winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.