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Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
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
Ladies
Beauty
Remember
Power
Love
Unfit
More quotes by John Dryden
Possess your soul with patience.
John Dryden
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.
John Dryden
Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
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None, none descends into himself, to find The secret imperfections of his mind: But every one is eagle-ey'd to see Another's faults, and his deformity.
John Dryden
I have a soul that like an ample shield Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
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Prodigious actions may as well be done, by weaver's issue, as the prince's son.
John Dryden
Then we upon our globe's last verge shall go, And view the ocean leaning on the sky: From thence our rolling Neighbours we shall know, And on the Lunar world securely pry.
John Dryden
Fiction is of the essence of poetry as well as of painting there is a resemblance in one of human bodies, things, and actions which are not real, and in the other of a true story by fiction.
John Dryden
Imitators are but a servile kind of cattle.
John Dryden
The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.
John Dryden
Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.
John Dryden
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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The good we have enjoyed from Heaven's free will, and shall we murmur to endure the ill?
John Dryden
At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.
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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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I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
John Dryden
Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
John Dryden
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
John Dryden
None but the brave deserve the fair.
John Dryden
I saw myself the lambent easy light Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night.
John Dryden