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Reason to rule, mercy to forgive: The first is law, the last prerogative. Life is an adventure in forgiveness.
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
Reason
Forgiveness
Firsts
Forgiving
First
Mercy
Life
Adventure
Rule
Law
Lasts
Prerogative
Last
Forgive
More quotes by John Dryden
Good sense and good-nature are never separated, though the ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good-nature, by which I mean beneficence and candor, is the product of right reason.
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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.
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The fortitude of a Christian consists in patience, not in enterprises which the poets call heroic, and which are commonly the effects of interest, pride and worldly honor.
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Love either finds equality or makes it.
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A woman's counsel brought us first to woe, And made her man his paradise forego, Where at heart's ease he liv'd and might have been As free from sorrow as he was from sin.
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
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The end of satire is the amendment of vices by correction and he who writes honestly is no more an enemy to the offender than the physician to the patient when he prescribes harsh remedies.
John Dryden
The people have a right supreme To make their kings, for Kings are made for them. All Empire is no more than Pow'r in Trust, Which when resum'd, can be no longer just. Successionm for the general good design'd, In its own wrong a Nation cannot bind.
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Even victors are by victories undone.
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The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe.
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How easy 'tis, when Destiny proves kind, With full-spread sails to run before the wind!
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Jealousy's a proof of love, But 'tis a weak and unavailing medicine It puts out the disease and makes it show, But has no power to cure.
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They think too little who talk too much.
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Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes... Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
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Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
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Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.
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Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
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I feel my sinews slackened with the fright, and a cold sweat trills down all over my limbs, as if I were dissolving into water.
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When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit Trust on, and think tomorrow will repay. Tomorrow's falser than the former day.
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So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil.
John Dryden