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The winds that never moderation knew, Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
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
Conscious
Blew
Afraid
Winds
Wind
Lungs
Joy
Moderation
Knew
Charge
Much
Breath
Faintly
Never
Breaths
Straighten
Blow
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More quotes by John Dryden
They, who would combat general authority with particular opinion, must first establish themselves a reputation of understanding better than other men.
John Dryden
No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.
John Dryden
Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.
John Dryden
Secret guilt is by silence revealed.
John Dryden
Democracy is essentially anti-authoritarian--that is, it not only demands the right but imposes the responsibility of thinking for ourselves.
John Dryden
Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself can find, A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, Condemns the wretch, and still the charge renews.
John Dryden
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
He who trusts a secret to his servant makes his own man his master.
John Dryden
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures. War, he sung, is toil and trouble Honour but an empty bubble Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying. If all the world be worth the winning, Think, oh think it worth enjoying: Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee.
John Dryden
Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.
John Dryden
Love taught him shame, and shame with love at strife Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
John Dryden
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
A farce is that in poetry which grotesque (caricature) is in painting. The persons and actions of a farce are all unnatural, and the manners false, that is, inconsistent with the characters of mankind and grotesque painting is the just resemblance of this.
John Dryden
The conscience of a people is their power.
John Dryden
The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
John Dryden
A narrow mind begets obstinacy we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
John Dryden
She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
John Dryden
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.
John Dryden
New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.
John Dryden
More liberty begets desire of more The hunger still increases with the store
John Dryden