Virtue is her own reward.
JOHN DRYDENBut when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means; And providently pimps for ill desires.
More John Dryden Quotes
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Beware of the fury of the patient man.
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The winds are out of breath.
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Better to hunt in fields, for health unbought, Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught, The wise, for cure, on exercise depend; God never made his work for man to mend.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Murder may pass unpunished for a time, But tardy justice will overtake the crime.
JOHN DRYDEN -
No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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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So the false spider, when her nets are spread, deep ambushed in her silent den does lie.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Great wits are sure to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Good sense and good-nature are never separated, though the ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good-nature, by which I mean beneficence and candor, is the product of right reason.
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Death ends our woes, and the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene.
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And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Pity melts the mind to love.
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For your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
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Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
JOHN DRYDEN -
When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 -
If passion rules, how weak does reason prove!
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Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
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Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
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Repentance is but want of power to sin.
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Pride – Lord of human kind.
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Trust on and think To-morrow will repay; To-morrow’s falser than the former day; Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blest With some new Joys, cuts off what we possest.
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It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.
JOHN DRYDEN -
For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.
JOHN DRYDEN