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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
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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
Writing
Follows
Men
Instinct
Pass
Mere
Crime
Ought
Railing
Write
Verse
May
Verses
More quotes by John Dryden
Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
John Dryden
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
John Dryden
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
John Dryden
Not to ask is not be denied.
John Dryden
Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.
John Dryden
Damn'd neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
John Dryden
Time and death shall depart and say in flying Love has found out a way to live, by dying.
John Dryden
They first condemn that first advised the ill.
John Dryden
No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.
John Dryden
So the false spider, when her nets are spread, deep ambushed in her silent den does lie.
John Dryden
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.
John Dryden
A narrow mind begets obstinacy we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
John Dryden
Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.
John Dryden
Wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
John Dryden
For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
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
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.
John Dryden
Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
John Dryden
How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
John Dryden
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
John Dryden