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This roving humor (though not with like success) I have ever had, and like a ranging spaniel, that barks at every bird it sees, leaving his game, I have followed all, saving that which I should, and may justly complain, and truly (for who is everywhere is nowhere)…, that I have read many books, but to little purpose, for want of good method; I have confusedly tumbled over divers authors in our libraries, with small profit, for want of art, order, memory, judgement.
11:29pm with 2 notes
Reblogged from passively-artistic
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…thou canst not think worse of me than I do of myself.
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It is worth the labor—saith Plotinus—to consider well of Love, whether it be a God, or a divell, or passion of the mind, or partly god, partly divell, partly passion.
9:00am with 50 notes
Reblogged from invisiblestories
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I have overshot myself, I have spoken foolishly, rashly, unadvisedly, absurdly, I have anatomised mine own folly.
