70 Quotes & Sayings By John Dryden

John Dryden was born in 1631 in England. He is considered one of the greatest dramatists of the English language with many plays being considered masterpieces, including The Indian Queen.

I am sore wounded but not slain I will lay...
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I am sore wounded but not slain I will lay me down and bleed a while And then rise up to fight again John Dryden
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who...
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But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much. John Dryden
Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would...
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Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls, must dive below. John Dryden
Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves: who, with...
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Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves: who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves. John Dryden
For you may palm upon us new for old: All,...
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For you may palm upon us new for old: All, as they say, that glitters, is not gold. John Dryden
Such subtle covenants shall be made, Till peace itself is...
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Such subtle covenants shall be made, Till peace itself is war in masquerade. John Dryden
We first make our habits, then our habits make us.
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We first make our habits, then our habits make us. John Dryden
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If others in the same Glass better see 'Tis for Themselves they look, but not for me: For my Salvation must its Doom receive Not from what others, but what I believe. John Dryden
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Thus like a Captive in an Isle confin'd, Man walks at large, a Pris'ner of the Mind John Dryden
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When I consider life, 't is all a cheat. Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay. To-morrow 's falser than the former day; Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage! none would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; And from the dregs of life think to receive What the first sprightly running could not give. . John Dryden
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None are so busy as the fool and knave. John Dryden
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Whatever is, is in its causes just; But purblind man Sees but a part o' th' chain; the nearest link; His eyes not carrying to that equal beam That poises all above. John Dryden
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Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings. John Dryden
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All things are subject to decay and when fate summons, monarchs must obey. John Dryden
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When I consider Life, 'tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possesst. John Dryden
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Whence but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts, In several ages born, in several parts, Weave such agreeing truths? Or how, or why, Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie? John Dryden
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Better to hunt in fields, for health unbought, Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise, for cure, on exercise depend; God never made his work for man to mend. John Dryden
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Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw? Oh curst Effects of necessary Law! How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan, Beware the Fury of a Patient Man. John Dryden
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Beware the fury of a patient man. John Dryden
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Great wits are to madness near allied And thin partitions do their bounds divide. John Dryden
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Farewell, ungrateful traitor, Farewell, my perjured swain; Let never injured creature Believe a man again. The pleasure of possessing Surpasses all expressing, But 'tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain.' Tis easy to deceive us In pity of your pain; But when we love you leave us To rail at you in vain. Before we have descried it There is no bliss beside it, But she that once has tried it Will never love again. The passion we pretended Was only to obtain, But when the charm is ended The charmer you disdain. Your love by ours we measure Till we have lost our treasure, But dying is a pleasure When living is a pain. John Dryden
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Those who write ill, and they who ne'er durst write, Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite. John Dryden
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Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more; Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's: Souls know no conquerors. John Dryden
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Only man clogs his happiness with care destroying what is with thoughts of what may be. John Dryden
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None but the brave deserves the fair. John Dryden
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Fight on my merry men all I'm a little wounded but I am not slain I will lay me down for to bleed a while Then I'll rise and fight with you again. John Dryden
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Fortune befriends the bold. John Dryden
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None but the brave deserve the fair. John Dryden
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All human things are subject to decay And when fate summons monarchs must obey. John Dryden
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Every inch that is not fool is rogue. John Dryden
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Friendship of itself a holy tie is made more sacred by adversity. John Dryden
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Only man clogs his happiness with care destroying what is with thoughts of what may be. John Dryden
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Chaucer I confess is a rough diamond and must be polished e'er he shines. John Dryden
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It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events because in herself she is nothing but is ruled by prudence. John Dryden
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His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen. John Dryden
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For Art may err but Nature cannot miss. John Dryden
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I'm a little wounded but I am not slain I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I'll rise and fight again. John Dryden
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Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than the dull prospect of a distant good. John Dryden
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Stiff in opinion always in the wrong. John Dryden
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Damned Neuters in their Middle way of Steering Are neither Fish nor Flesh nor good Red Herring. John Dryden
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Repentance is but want of power to sin. John Dryden
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There is a pleasure sure In being mad which none but madmen know! John Dryden
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They conquer who believe they can. John Dryden
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But far more numerous was the herd of stfch Who think too little and who talk too much. 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 liv'd today. John Dryden
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For truth has such a face and such a mien As to be lov'd needs only to be seen. John Dryden
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I'll habits gather by unseen degrees As brooks make rivers rivers run to seas. John Dryden
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War is the trade of kings. John Dryden
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War he sung is toil and trouble Honour but an empty bubble. John Dryden
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…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky John Dryden
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When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit. John Dryden
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War is the trade of Kings. John Dryden
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But love's a malady without a cure. John Dryden
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Love is love's reward. John Dryden
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Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are. John Dryden
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Words are but pictures of our thoughts. John Dryden
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Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. 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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Only man clogs his happiness with care, destroying what is with thoughts of what may be. John Dryden
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Boldness is a mask for fear, however great. John Dryden
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For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen. John Dryden
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Forgiveness to the injured does belong but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong. John Dryden
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Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul. John Dryden
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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. John Dryden
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And plenty makes us poor. John Dryden
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Dancing is the poetry of the foot. John Dryden
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The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves. John Dryden
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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
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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