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A man so various, that he seemed to beNot 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 chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.
John Dryden
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And kind as kings upon their coronation day.
John Dryden
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And threat'ning France, plac'd like a painted Jove,Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.
John Dryden
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Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own; he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
John Dryden
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With how much ease believe we what we wish!
John Dryden
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Leave writing plays, and choose for thy commandSome peaceful province in acrostic land.There thou mayst wings display and altars raise,And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.
John Dryden
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Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.
John Dryden
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Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears.
John Dryden
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Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense,But good men starve for want of impudence.
John Dryden
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Thus in a pageant-show a plot is made;And peace itself is war in masquerade.
John Dryden
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Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are.
John Dryden
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Your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.
John Dryden
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O gracious God! how far have weProfaned thy heavenly gift of poesy!
John Dryden
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And plenty makes us poor.
John Dryden
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I am reading Jonson's verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, sparing, and invidious panegyric...
John Dryden
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Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
John Dryden
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She hugged the offender, and forgave the offense:Sex to the last.
John Dryden
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The gates of hell are open night and day;Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:But to return, and view the cheerful skies,In this the task and mighty labor lies.
John Dryden
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Him of the western dome, whose weighty senseFlows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
John Dryden
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Than a successive title long and dark,Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's ark.
John Dryden
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His courage foes, his friends his truth proclaim.
John Dryden
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All empire is no more than power in trust.
John Dryden
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Even victors are by victories undone.
John Dryden
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Made still a blund'ring kind of melody;Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin,Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in.Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,And in one word, heroically mad.
John Dryden
