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Better one suffer than a nation grieve.
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
Nation
Nations
Suffering
Better
Grieve
Grieving
Suffer
More quotes by John Dryden
Forgiveness to the injured does belong but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong.
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They first condemn that first advised the ill.
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Time and death shall depart and say in flying Love has found out a way to live, by dying.
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He who would pry behind the scenes oft sees a counterfeit.
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Beware the fury of a patient man.
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Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long.
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Dead men tell no tales.
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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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When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
John Dryden
My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.
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The people have a right supreme To make their kings, for Kings are made for them. All Empire is no more than Pow'r in Trust, Which when resum'd, can be no longer just. Successionm for the general good design'd, In its own wrong a Nation cannot bind.
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He invades authors like a monarch and what would be theft in other poets is only victory in him.
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I saw myself the lambent easy light Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night.
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A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day Like Hectors in at every petty fray.
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How easy 'tis, when Destiny proves kind, With full-spread sails to run before the wind!
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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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Heroic poetry has ever been esteemed the greatest work of human nature.
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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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Order is the greatest grace.
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Railing in other men may be a crime, But ought to pass for mere instinct in him: Instinct he follows and no further knows, For to write verse with him is to transprose.
John Dryden