John Dryden Quotes

Of no distemper, of no blast he died,But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long - Even wondered at, because he dropped no sooner.Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years,Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more;Till like a clock worn out with eating time,The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
John Dryden
John Dryden

Quotes to Explore

Citatis.com uses cookies and complies with California Consumer Privacy Act.
By continuing to use the site you consent to our policies regarding cookies and personal data processing.