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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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John Dryden
Age: 68 †
Born: 1631
Born: August 7
Died: 1700
Died: May 12
Hymnwriter
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Aldwincle
Northamptonshire
Fight
Fighting
Littles
Slain
Little
Bleed
Wounded
Determination
Lays
Rise
More quotes by John Dryden
not judging truth to be in nature better than falsehood, but setting a value upon both according to interest.
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None, none descends into himself, to find The secret imperfections of his mind: But every one is eagle-ey'd to see Another's faults, and his deformity.
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Humility and resignation are our prime virtues.
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But when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means And providently pimps for ill desires.
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
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Death in itself is nothing but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.
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They live too long who happiness outlive.
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If all the world be worth thy winning. / Think, oh think it worth enjoying: / Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee, / Take the good the gods provide thee.
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The brave man seeks not popular applause, Nor, overpower'd with arms, deserts his cause Unsham'd, though foil'd, he does the best he can, Force is of brutes, but honor is of man.
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She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
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They think too little who talk too much.
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Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the' appointed place we tend The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.
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Damn'd neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
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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.
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Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.
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Revealed religion first informed thy sight, and reason saw not till faith sprung to light.
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For granting we have sinned, and that the offence Of man is made against Omnipotence, Some price that bears proportion must be paid, And infinite with infinite be weighed.
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Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
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The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms.
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So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil.
John Dryden