Robert Burton (1577 – 1640)
English scholar at Oxford University, whose chief claim to fame is for writing The Anatomy of Melancholy.
They lard their lean books with the fat of others' works.
A mere madness, to live like a wretch and die rich.
Like a hog, or dog in the manger, he doth only keep it because it shall do nobody else good, hurting himself and others.
As clear and as manifest as the nose in a man's face.
He is only fantastical that is not in fashion.
No cord nor cable can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast, as love can do with a twined thread.
The fear of some divine and supreme powers keeps men in obedience.
England is a paradise for women and hell for horses; Italy a paradise for horses, hell for women, as the diverb goes.
Every man for himself, his own ends, the Devil for all.
[Desire] is a perpetual rack, or horsemill, according to Austin, still going round as in a ring.
All places are distant from heaven alike.
Cookery is become an art, a noble science; cooks are gentlemen.
[Quoting Seneca] Cornelia kept her in talk till her children came from school, "and these," said she, "are my jewels."
I light my candle from their torches.
If the world will be gulled, let it be gulled.
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.
[The rich] are indeed rather possessed by their money than possessors.
Many things happen between the cup and the lip.
We can make majors and officers every year, but not scholars.
Though they [philosophers] write contemptu glori?, yet as Hieron observes, they will put their names to their books.