"I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honor to Shakespeare that in his writing, whatever he penned, he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, 'Would he had blotted a thousand." - Timber
"There's nothing else in the way of my European existence, I think. That part of it which is left, out here, reads Ben Jonson. Kindly turn up his "New Inn" (which is sheer Meredith) and read Lovel's Song in Act IV. The second verse will dispel the impression of the first, that it is by Robert Browning. The whole thing is pure beauty. "
- Rupert Brooke In a letter to Edward Marsh, on life in the South Seas
"Ah Ben! Say how, or when Shall we thy Guests Meet at those Lyrick Feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the triple Tunne? Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad; And yet each Verse of thine Out-did the Meate, out-did the Frolick wine.
My Ben Or come agen: Or send to us, Thy wits great over-plus; But teach us yet Wisely to husband it; Lest we that Tallent spend: And having once brought to an end That precious stock; and store Of such a wit the world sho'd have no more."
- Robert Herrick Poem: "An Ode for him"
"You are a friend then, as I make it out, Of our man Shakespeare, who alone of us..."
- Edwin A Robinson from the poem Ben Jonson Entertains a Man from Stratford"