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Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

John Dryden

Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
JOHN DRYDEN

Degree River Sea
We first make our habits, and then our habits make us.
JOHN DRYDEN

Character Habit Inspirational Nature Ourselves
If by the people you understand the multitude, the hoi polloi, ’tis no matter what they think; they are sometimes in the right, sometimes in the wrong; their judgment is a mere lottery.
JOHN DRYDEN

Judgement People Thinking Understand Wrong
Mighty things from small beginnings grow.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beginning Growth Small
Be slow to resolve, but quick in performance.
JOHN DRYDEN

Performance Quick Slow
For secrets are edged tools, And must be kept from children and from fools.
JOHN DRYDEN

Children Edge Fools Secret Tools
Repentance is but want of power to sin.
JOHN DRYDEN

One Liner Power Regret Sin
Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are.
JOHN DRYDEN

Love Pain Pleasure
He was exhaled; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
JOHN DRYDEN

Creation Dew Greatness Himself Morning Spirit
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

Children Crave Growth Man
Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
JOHN DRYDEN

Brave Despair Happiness
When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cheating Favor Fools Hope Life
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fear Horrible Ourselves Silence Temptation
Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpass’d; The next, in majesty; in both the last. The force of Nature could no further go; To make a third, she join’d the former two.
JOHN DRYDEN

Age Distant Force Herself Nature Poet
Those who write ill, and they who ne’er durst write, Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite.
JOHN DRYDEN

Criticism Revenge Writing
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.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fair Fate Myself Possession Rain Shine Time

Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

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Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

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Popular Authors

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