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War is a trade of kings.
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
Kings
Trade
War
More quotes by John Dryden
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.
John Dryden
A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind.
John Dryden
Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
John Dryden
So poetry, which is in Oxford made An art, in London only is a trade.
John Dryden
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.
John Dryden
I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language.
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Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's: Souls know no conquerors.
John Dryden
Secret guilt by silence is betrayed.
John Dryden
The wretched have no friends.
John Dryden
We find few historians who have been diligent enough in their search for truth it is their common method to take on trust what they help distribute to the public by which means a falsehood once received from a famed writer becomes traditional to posterity.
John Dryden
Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
John Dryden
The gods, (if gods to goodness are inclined If acts of mercy touch their heavenly mind), And, more than all the gods, your generous heart, Conscious of worth, requite its own desert!
John Dryden
Hushed as midnight silence.
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But when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means And providently pimps for ill desires.
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The greater part performed achieves the less.
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Beware the fury of a patient man.
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He made all countries where he came his own.
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Let cheerfulness on happy fortune wait.
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Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
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Dead men tell no tales.
John Dryden