John Dryden Quotes
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Whatever is, is in its causes just.
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And kind as kings upon their coronation day.
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Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,Against your judgment, your departed friend!
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The first is the law, the last prerogative.
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And threat'ning France, plac'd like a painted Jove,Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.
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Timotheus, to his breathing flute, And sounding lyre,Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
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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.
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I am reading Jonson's verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, sparing, and invidious panegyric...
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War is the trade of Kings.
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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.
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Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again.
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Words are but pictures of our thoughts.
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All objects lose by too familiar a view.
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An horrid stillness first invades the ear,And in that silence we the tempest fear.
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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.
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Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart.
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For those whom God to ruin has design'd,He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.
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Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,The power of beauty I remember yet.
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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.
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Beware the fury of a patient man.