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Secret guilt is by silence revealed.

John Dryden

Tis a good thing to laugh at any rate; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness.
JOHN DRYDEN

Goodness Happiness Instrument Laughter Man Rate
Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem.
JOHN DRYDEN

Bitter Poem Satire
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today: 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

Live Myself Past Power Rain Shine Worst
And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDEN

Poor
Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
JOHN DRYDEN

Erase Pain
Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
JOHN DRYDEN

Complain Leisure Light Suffering
Love and Time with reverence use, Treat them like a parting friend: Nor the golden gifts refuse Which in youth sincere they send: For each year their price is more, And they less simple than before.
JOHN DRYDEN

Friendship Love Price Time Treat
For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
JOHN DRYDEN

Art Miss Mistake Nature
Errors like straws upon the surface flow, Who would search for pearls to be grateful for often must dive below.
JOHN DRYDEN

Errors Flow Gratitude Surface
But love’s a malady without a cure.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cure Love
All things are subject to decay and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
JOHN DRYDEN

Decay Monarch Obedience Subject
Truth is the object of our understanding, as good is of our will; and the understanding can no more be delighted with a lie than the will can choose an apparent evil.
JOHN DRYDEN

Choice Delight Evil Lying Object Truth Understand
Hushed as midnight silence.
JOHN DRYDEN

One Liner Silence
He look’d in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.
JOHN DRYDEN

Green Himself Youth
Virgil and Horace were the severest writers of the severest age.
JOHN DRYDEN

Age Writing
Content with poverty, my soul I arm; And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
JOHN DRYDEN

Myself Poverty Soul Virtue Warm

Secret guilt is by silence revealed.

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Secret guilt is by silence revealed.

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