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The elephant is never won by anger nor must that man who would reclaim a lion take him by the teeth.
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
Never
Elephant
Would
Elephants
Men
Lion
Lions
Teeth
Anger
Take
Must
Reclaim
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
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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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Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
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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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The longest tyranny that ever sway'd Was that wherein our ancestors betray'd Their free-born reason to the Stagirite [Aristotle], And made his torch their universal light. So truth, while only one suppli'd the state, Grew scarce, and dear, and yet sophisticate.
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Government itself at length must fall To nature's state, where all have right to all.
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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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Want is a bitter and a hateful good, Because its virtues are not understood Yet many things, impossible to thought, Have been by need to full perfection brought. The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, Sharpness of wit, and active diligence Prudence at once, and fortitude it gives And, if in patience taken, mends our lives.
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The scum that rises upmost, when the nation boils.
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The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.
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Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
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And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.
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What passion cannot music raise and quell!
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I have a soul that like an ample shield Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
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Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
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Seas are the fields of combat for the winds but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
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