How many times go we to comedies, to masques, to places of great and noble resort, nay even to church only to see the company.
John DonneLove, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
John DonneDoth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a breaking of prison?
John Donne