Quote

If by the people you understand the multitude, the hoi polloi, 'tis no matter what they think they are sometimes in the right, sometimes in the wrong their judgment is a mere lottery.

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
Thinking
Judgment
People
Understanding
Wrong
Understand
Matter
Lottery
Right
Multitude
Sometimes
Multitudes
Think
Mere

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Murder may pass unpunishd for a time, But tardy justice will oertake the crime.
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When a man's life is under debate, The judge can ne'er too long deliberate.
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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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Damn'd neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
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The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.
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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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The winds are out of breath.
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Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
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Desire of power, on earth a vicious weed, Yet, sprung from high, is of celestial seed: In God 'tisglory and when men aspire, 'Tis but a spark too much of heavenly fire.
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Virtue without success is a fair picture shown by an ill light but lucky men are favorites of heaven all own the chief, when fortune owns the cause.
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Love reckons hours for months, and days for years and every little absence is an age.
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Government itself at length must fall To nature's state, where all have right to all.
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For thee, sweet month the groves green liveries wear. If not the first, the fairest of the year For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers. When thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more slowly on.
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When Misfortune is asleep, let no one wake her.
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Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
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Secret guilt by silence is betrayed.
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Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.
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