-
It is madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because by herself she is nothing and is ruled by prudence.
John Dryden
-
What passions cannot music raise or quell?
John Dryden
-
Lord of yourself, uncumbered with a wife.
John Dryden
-
Roused by the lash of his own stubborn tail our lion now will foreign foes assail.
John Dryden
-
Above any Greek or Roman name.
John Dryden
-
As long as words a different sense will bear, And each may be his own interpreter, Our airy faith will no foundation find; The word's a weathercock for every wind.
John Dryden
-
By viewing Nature, Nature's handmaid Art,Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow.
John Dryden
-
Timotheus, to his breathing flute, And sounding lyre,Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
John Dryden
-
Love works a different way in different minds, the fool it enlightens and the wise it blinds.
John Dryden
-
War is the trade of Kings.
John Dryden
-
Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving, too, and full as vain.
John Dryden
-
I have found, by trial, Homer a more pleasing task than Virgil (though I say not the translation will be less laborious); for the Grecian is more according to my genius, than the Latin poet.
John Dryden
-
His hair just grizzled,As in a green old age.
John Dryden
-
Sound the trumpets; beat the drums...Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.
John Dryden
-
Successful crimes alone are justified.
John Dryden
-
Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
John Dryden
-
All objects lose by too familiar a view.
John Dryden
-
Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,Against your judgment, your departed friend!
John Dryden
-
And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.
John Dryden
-
Beware the fury of a patient man.
John Dryden
-
Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.
John Dryden
-
Like a led victim, to my death I'll go, And, dying, bless the hand that gave the blow.
John Dryden
-
Railing in other men may be a crime,But ought to pass for mere instinct in him:Instinct he follows and no further knows,For to write verse with him is to transpose.
John Dryden
-
Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.
John Dryden
