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All habits gather by unseen degrees.
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
Gather
Unseen
Habits
Degrees
Habit
More quotes by John Dryden
War is a trade of kings.
John Dryden
Thus, while the mute creation downward bend Their sight, and to their earthly mother ten, Man looks aloft and with erected eyes Beholds his own hereditary skies.
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Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.
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Railing and praising were his usual themes and both showed his judgment in extremes. Either over violent or over civil, so everyone to him was either god or devil.
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The Fates but only spin the coarser clue The finest of the wool is left for you.
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If you are for a merry jaunt, I will try, for once, who can foot it farthest.
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For what can power give more than food and drink, To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
John Dryden
For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
John Dryden
Men are but children of a larger growth, Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain.
John Dryden
Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
John Dryden
Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.
John Dryden
The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe.
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He who would pry behind the scenes oft sees a counterfeit.
John Dryden
The wretched have no friends.
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Every language is so full of its own proprieties that what is beautiful in one is often barbarous, nay, sometimes nonsense, in another.
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Kings fight for empires, madmen for applause.
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For granting we have sinned, and that the offence Of man is made against Omnipotence, Some price that bears proportion must be paid, And infinite with infinite be weighed.
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If passion rules, how weak does reason prove!
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…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky
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Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
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