Robert Burton (1577 – 1640)
English scholar at Oxford University, whose chief claim to fame is for writing The Anatomy of Melancholy.
I had a heavy heart and an ugly head, a kind of impostume in my head, which I was very desirous to be unladen of.
For ignorance is the mother of devotion, as all the world knows, and these times can amply witness.
Though they [philosophers] write contemptu glori?, yet as Hieron observes, they will put their names to their books.
Almost in every kingdom the most ancient families have been at first princes' bastards; their worthiest captains, best wits, greatest scholars, bravest spirits in all our annals, have been base [born].
Our conscience, which is a great ledger book, wherein are written all our offenses...grinds our souls with the remembrance of some precedent sins, makes us reflect upon, accuse and condemn ourselves.
A nightingale dies for shame if another bird sings better.
Marriage and hanging go by destiny; matches are made in heaven.
Isocrates adviseth Demonicus, when he came to a strange city, to worship by all means the gods of the place.
Fabricius finds certain spots and clouds in the sun.
The fear of some divine and supreme powers keeps men in obedience.
We can make majors and officers every year, but not scholars.
Many things happen between the cup and the lip.
[The rich] are indeed rather possessed by their money than possessors.
Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it, or will admit of an excuse; envy alone wants both. Other sins last but for awhile; the gut may be satisfied, anger remits, hatred hath an end, envy never ceaseth.
If the world will be gulled, let it be gulled.
I light my candle from their torches.
[Quoting Seneca] Cornelia kept her in talk till her children came from school, "and these," said she, "are my jewels."
Cookery is become an art, a noble science; cooks are gentlemen.