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Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure,- Sweet is pleasure after pain.

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
Treasure
Sweet
Rich
Pleasure
Pain
Bacchus

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Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
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The gods, (if gods to goodness are inclined If acts of mercy touch their heavenly mind), And, more than all the gods, your generous heart, Conscious of worth, requite its own desert!
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Pleasure never comes sincere to man but lent by heaven upon hard usury.
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Order is the greatest grace.
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For every inch that is not fool, is rogue.
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Parting is worse than death it is death of love!
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War is a trade of kings.
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Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
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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.
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An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
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Imagination in a poet is a faculty so wild and lawless that, like a high ranging spaniel, it must have clogs tied to it, lest it outrun the judgment. The great easiness of blank verse renders the poet too luxuriant. He is tempted to say many things which might better be omitted, or, at least shut up in fewer words.
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When we view elevated ideas of Nature, the result of that view is admiration, which is always the cause of pleasure.
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[T]he Famous Rules which the French call, Des Trois Unitez , or, The Three Unities, which ought to be observ'd in every Regular Play namely, of Time, Place, and Action.
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Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blundering kind of melody Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and thin, Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in Free from all meaning whether good or bad, And in one word, heroically mad.
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For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
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New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.
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Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.
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Time and death shall depart and say in flying Love has found out a way to live, by dying.
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Mankind is ever the same, and nothing lost out of nature, though everything is altered.
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He is a perpetual fountain of good sense.
John Dryden