Philip Sidney Quotes

Nature’s world is brazen, the poets only deliver a golden.

[This] much curse I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a sonnet, and, when you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an epigraph.

I…am admitted into the company of paper-blurrers.

With a tale forsooth he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner.

Poetry therefore, is an art of imitation… A speaking picture, with this end: to teach and delight.

And truly, even Plato, whosoever well considereth shall find that in the body of his work, though the inside and strength were philosophy, the skin as it were and beauty depended most on poetry.