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An ugly woman in a rich habit set out with jewels nothing can become.

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
Jewels
Ugly
Habit
Rich
Woman
Become
Nothing

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Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
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For age but tastes of pleasures youth devours.
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Humility and resignation are our prime virtues.
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All habits gather by unseen degrees.
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At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.
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The wretched have no friends.
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Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.
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I learn to pity woes so like my own.
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Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
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When a man's life is under debate, The judge can ne'er too long deliberate.
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He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
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Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
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None, none descends into himself, to find The secret imperfections of his mind: But every one is eagle-ey'd to see Another's faults, and his deformity.
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When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.
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My love's a noble madness.
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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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