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With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: Of these, my barbers take a costly care.
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
Take
Costly
Cheek
Cheeks
Oil
Thou
Hair
Odorous
Head
Sleek
Care
Barbers
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.
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Love taught him shame, and shame with love at strife Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
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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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Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.
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How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
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As one that neither seeks, nor shuns his foe.
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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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Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
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Dead men tell no tales.
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Government itself at length must fall To nature's state, where all have right to all.
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The end of satire is the amendment of vices by correction and he who writes honestly is no more an enemy to the offender than the physician to the patient when he prescribes harsh remedies.
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Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself can find, A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, Condemns the wretch, and still the charge renews.
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Love is love's reward.
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Who climbs the grammar-tree, distinctly knows Where noun, and verb, and participle grows.
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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.
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To so perverse a sex all grace is vain.
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Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.
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Ill news is wing'd with fate, and flies apace.
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They first condemn that first advised the ill.
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At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.
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