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Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, abhors the cruel.

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
Mankind
Abhors
Grace
Attribute
Heaven
Boundless
Find
Darling
Good
Attributes
Cruel
Mercy
Whose

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A man is to be cheated into passion, but to be reasoned into truth.
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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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And after hearing what our Church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern.
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He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
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Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
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Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.
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Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres.
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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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The propriety of thoughts and words, which are the hidden beauties of a play, are but confusedly judged in the vehemence of action.
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Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
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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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Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
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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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Jealousy's a proof of love, But 'tis a weak and unavailing medicine It puts out the disease and makes it show, But has no power to cure.
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Virtue in distress, and vice in triumph make atheists of mankind.
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The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
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Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
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When a man's life is under debate, The judge can ne'er too long deliberate.
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Faith is to believe what you do not yet see: the reward for this faith is to see what you believe. Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.
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