Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
Meaning of the quote
The quote suggests that if someone does not care about you, then you should not care about them either. It means that if someone is not willing to help or support you, then you should not feel obligated to help or support them in return. The quote expresses a sense of retaliation or revenge against those who have not shown you kindness or consideration.
About John Donne
John Donne was an English poet, scholar, soldier, and cleric who lived in the 17th century. He is considered the preeminent representative of the metaphysical poets and is known for his unique poetic style, which often featured abrupt openings, paradoxes, and dramatic speech rhythms. Despite his great education and talents, Donne lived in poverty for many years before eventually becoming the Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral in London.
More quotes from John Donne
Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Art is the most passionate orgy within man’s grasp.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
I observe the physician with the same diligence as the disease.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
He must pull out his own eyes, and see no creature, before he can say, he sees no God; He must be no man, and quench his reasonable soul, before he can say to himself, there is no God.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Nature’s great masterpiece, an elephant; the only harmless great thing.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out; the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Reason is our soul’s left hand, faith her right.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Pleasure is none, if not diversified.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy jail.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
The day breaks not, it is my heart.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
I am two fools, I know, for loving, and for saying so in whining poetry.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
English poet and cleric (1572-1631)