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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

John Dryden

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

Children Edge Fools Secret Tools
The bravest men are subject most to chance.
JOHN DRYDEN

Brave Chance Man Subject
Since a true knowledge of nature gives us pleasure, a lively imitation of it, either in poetry or painting, must produce a much greater; for both these arts are not only true imitations of nature, but of the best nature.
JOHN DRYDEN

Best Give Up Knowledge Nature Production True
So softly death succeeded life in her, She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Dreams Heaven Herself Life Success
Fiction is of the essence of poetry as well as of painting; there is a resemblance in one of human bodies, things, and actions which are not real, and in the other of a true story by fiction.
JOHN DRYDEN

Action Essence Fiction Human Poetry Story
They think too little who talk too much.
JOHN DRYDEN

Talk Thinking
Secret guilt is by silence revealed.
JOHN DRYDEN

Guilty Reveal Secret Silence
We by art unteach what Nature taught.
JOHN DRYDEN

Art Nature Teaching
Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beautiful Dangerous Surface Way
When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think tomorrow will repay. Tomorrow’s falser than the former day.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cheat Day False Fools Life
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
Words are but pictures of our thoughts.
JOHN DRYDEN

Ourselves Photograph Thinking Word
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy.
JOHN DRYDEN

Build Destroy
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

Anger Cherish Disappear Forget
Every language is so full of its own proprieties that what is beautiful in one is often barbarous, nay, sometimes nonsense, in another.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beautiful Language Oneself
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise!
JOHN DRYDEN

Fury Revenge See

Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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