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When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.
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
Fell
Snow
Feathered
Words
Melted
Used
Flakes
Love
Softly
Like
Tender
Spokes
Spoke
More quotes by John Dryden
The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race.
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I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language.
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Even victors are by victories undone.
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Even kings but play and when their part is done, some other, worse or better, mounts the throne.
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Wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
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Arts and sciences in one and the same century have arrived at great perfection and no wonder, since every age has a kind of universal genius, which inclines those that live in it to some particular studies the work then, being pushed on by many hands, must go forward.
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What I have left is from my native spring I've still a heart that swells, in scorn of fate, And lifts me to my banks.
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For danger levels man and brute And all are fellows in their need.
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Thus, while the mute creation downward bend Their sight, and to their earthly mother ten, Man looks aloft and with erected eyes Beholds his own hereditary skies.
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He invades authors like a monarch and what would be theft in other poets is only victory in him.
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Love either finds equality or makes it.
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She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
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I maintain, against the enemies of the stage, that patterns of piety, decently represented, may second the precepts.
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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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All habits gather by unseen degrees.
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Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.
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How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.
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Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
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Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.
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