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The poorest of the sex have still an itch To know their fortunes, equal to the rich. The dairy-maid inquires, if she shall take The trusty tailor, and the cook forsake.
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
Stills
Cook
Itch
Still
Cooks
Tailors
Take
Curiosity
Maid
Fortune
Dairy
Sex
Forsake
Equal
Fortunes
Inquires
Shall
Maids
Trusty
Rich
Poorest
Tailor
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But 'tis the talent of our English nation, Still to be plotting some new reformation.
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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.
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Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
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For secrets are edged tools, And must be kept from children and from fools.
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They live too long who happiness outlive.
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What passion cannot music raise and quell!
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Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
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Honor is but an empty bubble.
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Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes... Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
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The good we have enjoyed from Heaven's free will, and shall we murmur to endure the ill?
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If all the world be worth thy winning. / Think, oh think it worth enjoying: / Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee, / Take the good the gods provide thee.
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My right eye itches, some good luck is near.
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Silence in times of suffering is the best.
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A coward is the kindest animal 'Tis the most forgiving creature in a fight.
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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 wants worth who dares not praise a foe.
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Whatever is, is in its causes just.
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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.
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