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Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
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
Whose
Another
Glutton
Ever
Cookery
Dwells
Frost
Perpetual
Kitchen
Cost
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Love either finds equality or makes it.
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With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: Of these, my barbers take a costly care.
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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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When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
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As one that neither seeks, nor shuns his foe.
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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.
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Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
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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.
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I learn to pity woes so like my own.
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Love works a different way in different minds, the fool it enlightens and the wise it blinds.
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The winds are out of breath.
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None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
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Discover the opinion of your enemies, which is commonly the truest for they will give you no quarter, and allow nothing to complaisance.
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Pleasure never comes sincere to man but lent by heaven upon hard usury.
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As when the dove returning bore the mark Of earth restored to the long labouring ark The relics of mankind, secure at rest, Oped every window to receive the guest, And the fair bearer of the message bless'd.
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He was exhaled his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
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Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
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The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.
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