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Order is the greatest grace.

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
Greatest
Order
Grace

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Forgiveness to the injured does belong but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong.
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If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.
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War is a trade of kings.
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For every inch that is not fool, is rogue.
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When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit Trust on, and think tomorrow will repay. Tomorrow's falser than the former day.
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Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, abhors the cruel.
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Imagination in a poet is a faculty so wild and lawless that, like a high ranging spaniel, it must have clogs tied to it, lest it outrun the judgment. The great easiness of blank verse renders the poet too luxuriant. He is tempted to say many things which might better be omitted, or, at least shut up in fewer words.
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The fortitude of a Christian consists in patience, not in enterprises which the poets call heroic, and which are commonly the effects of interest, pride and worldly honor.
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Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.
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Possess your soul with patience.
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Take not away the life you cannot give: For all things have an equal right to live.
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No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.
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Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
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The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
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Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
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Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
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Restless at home, and ever prone to range.
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He who would search for pearls must dive below.
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Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.
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Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain. Bachus's blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
John Dryden