A Quote by John Donne

Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed. — © John Donne
Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
A question: when is a bed not a bed? When it is angled lie-flat. My back hurts, my legs ache and my clothes are all rumpled - and all because the airline, which claimed to have a bed, actually offered up a torture machine which I prefer to call a slide.
I used to lie in bed in my flat and imagine what would happen if there was a zombie attack.
So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life, the leaf, the bud, the flower; No more doth flourish after first decay, That erst was sought to deck both bed and bower Of many a lady and many a paramour. Gather therefore the rose whilst yet in prime, For soon comes age that will her pride deflower. Gather the rose of love whilst yet in time, Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime.
But do you ever think of me, when you lie? Lie down in your bed, your bed of lies.
'As you have made your bed, so you must lie on it'; which again is simply a lie. If I have made my bed uncomfortable, please God I will make it again.
Whilst I've got these opportunities, and whilst I still love doing it, acting is something I can see myself continuing forever until I get bored of it.
Here's the truth you have to wrestle with: the reason that art (writing, engaging, leading, all of it) is valuable is precisely why I can't tell you how to do it. If there were a map, there'd be no art, because art is the act of navigating without a map. Don't you hate that? I love that there's no map.
Grown men, he told himself, in flat contradiction of centuries of accumulated evidence about the way grown men behave, do not behave like this.
Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
I like shopping from the comfort of my bed whilst my husband is asleep beside me.
Never walk near the bed; to a ghost your ankle is your most vulnerable part-once in bed, you're safe; he may lie around under the bed all night, but you're safe as daylight. If you still have doubts pull the blanket over your head.
Don't fall in love with the map. The map doesn't win elections.
Let not the emphasis of hospitality lie in bed and board; but let truth and love and honor and courtesy flow in all thy deeds.
When the friends we love the best Lie in their churchyard bed, We must not cry too bitterly Over the happy dead.
The map is not the territory... The only usefulness of a map depends on similarity of structure between the empirical world and the map.
Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.
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