Quote

The propriety of thoughts and words, which are the hidden beauties of a play, are but confusedly judged in the vehemence of action.

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
Judged
Hidden
Drama
Thoughts
Words
Confusedly
Action
Vehemence
Play
Beauties
Propriety

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A happy genius is the gift of nature.
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Imagination in a poet is a faculty so wild and lawless that, like a high ranging spaniel, it must have clogs tied to it, lest it outrun the judgment. The great easiness of blank verse renders the poet too luxuriant. He is tempted to say many things which might better be omitted, or, at least shut up in fewer words.
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Restless at home, and ever prone to range.
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Trust on and think To-morrow will repay To-morrow's falser than the former day Lies worse and while it says, we shall be blest With some new Joys, cuts off what we possest.
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The true Amphitryon is the Amphitryon where we dine.
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He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
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The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
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Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
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So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil.
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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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Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.
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Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
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A woman's counsel brought us first to woe, And made her man his paradise forego, Where at heart's ease he liv'd and might have been As free from sorrow as he was from sin.
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And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.
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If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.
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Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain. Bachus's blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
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Honor is but an empty bubble.
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Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
John Dryden
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For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.
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Mankind is ever the same, and nothing lost out of nature, though everything is altered.
John Dryden