A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pygmy-body to decay, And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity; Pleas'd with the danger, when the waves went high He sought the storms.
John Dryden
John Dryden
A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome; Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts, and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.
John Dryden
And all to leave what with his toil he won To that unfeather'd two-legged thing, a son.
John Dryden
And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
John Dryden
And kind as kings upon their coronation day.
John Dryden
And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.
John Dryden
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
John Dryden
A very merry, dancing, drinking,
John Dryden
Bacchus, ever fair and ever young.
John Dryden
Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,
John Dryden
Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
John Dryden
Beware the fury of a patient man.
John Dryden
But wild Ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune’s ice prefers to Virtue’s land.
John Dryden
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
John Dryden
Death in itself is nothing; but we fear To be we know not what, we know not where.
John Dryden
Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls must dive below.
John Dryden
Fool, not to know that love endures no tie,
John Dryden
For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
John Dryden
For every inch that is not fool is rogue.
John Dryden
For pity melts the mind to love.
John Dryden
For those whom God to ruin has design'd, He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.
John Dryden
For truth has such a face and such a mien, As to be lov'd needs only to be seen.
John Dryden
Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
John Dryden
Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call to-day his own; He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have liv'd to-day.
John Dryden
Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.
John Dryden
He trudg’d along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
John Dryden
He was exhal'd; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
John Dryden
I can enjoy her while she 's kind;
John Dryden
I can enjoy her while she 's kind; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes the wings and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away.
John Dryden
I have not joyed an hour since you departed, for public miseries, and for private fears; but this blest meeting has o'erpaid them all.
John Dryden
Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,– As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
John Dryden
Love taught him shame; and shame, with love at strife, Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
John Dryden
Men are but children of a larger growth.
John Dryden
Men met each other with erected look,
John Dryden
None but the brave deserves the fair.
John Dryden
Not heaven itself upon the past has power; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
John Dryden
Old as I am, for ladies’ love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
John Dryden
Our souls sit close and silently within,
John Dryden
Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.
John Dryden
Resolv’d to ruin or to rule the state.
John Dryden
Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure,– Sweet is pleasure after pain.
John Dryden
She hugg'd the offender, and forgave the offence: Sex to the last.
John Dryden
Since heaven's eternal year is thine.
John Dryden
So over violent, or over civil, That every man with him was God or Devil.
John Dryden
So softly death succeeded life in her,
John Dryden
The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme, The young men's vision, and the old men's dream!
John Dryden
Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.
John Dryden
'Tis good to laugh at any rate; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness.
John Dryden
Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.
John Dryden
Whate'er he did was done with so much ease, In him alone 't was natural to please.
John Dryden
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!
John Dryden
Who think too little, and who talk too much.
John Dryden
Wit will shine
John Dryden