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More liberty begets desire of more The hunger still increases with the store
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
Desire
Stills
Begets
Still
Increases
Store
Stores
Hunger
Increase
Liberty
More quotes by John Dryden
The elephant is never won by anger nor must that man who would reclaim a lion take him by the teeth.
John Dryden
He who trusts a secret to his servant makes his own man his master.
John Dryden
Discover the opinion of your enemies, which is commonly the truest for they will give you no quarter, and allow nothing to complaisance.
John Dryden
Virgil, above all poets, had a stock which I may call almost inexhaustible, of figurative, elegant, and sounding words.
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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.
John Dryden
And after hearing what our Church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern.
John Dryden
What I have left is from my native spring I've still a heart that swells, in scorn of fate, And lifts me to my banks.
John Dryden
The good we have enjoyed from Heaven's free will, and shall we murmur to endure the ill?
John Dryden
Want is a bitter and a hateful good, Because its virtues are not understood Yet many things, impossible to thought, Have been by need to full perfection brought. The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, Sharpness of wit, and active diligence Prudence at once, and fortitude it gives And, if in patience taken, mends our lives.
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I learn to pity woes so like my own.
John Dryden
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
Every language is so full of its own proprieties that what is beautiful in one is often barbarous, nay, sometimes nonsense, in another.
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Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown, A flaw is in thy ill-bak'd vessel found 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound, Yet thy moist clay is pliant to command, Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel.
John Dryden
Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
John Dryden
The wretched have no friends.
John Dryden
Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
John Dryden
Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.
John Dryden
Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long.
John Dryden
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
John Dryden
I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language.
John Dryden