If all the world be worth thy winning. / Think, oh think it worth enjoying: / Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee, / Take the good the gods provide thee.
JOHN DRYDENLet 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.
More John Dryden Quotes
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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 -
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 -
Only man clogs his happiness with care, destroying what is with thoughts of what may be.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Secret guilt is by silence revealed.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 -
Be slow to resolve, but quick in performance.
JOHN DRYDEN -
But Shakespeare’s magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
JOHN DRYDEN -
To die for faction is a common evil, But to be hanged for nonsense is the devil.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Silence in times of suffering is the best.
JOHN DRYDEN -
For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care To grant, before we can conclude the prayer: Preventing angels met it half the way, And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail: But common interest always will prevail; And pity never ceases to be shown To him who makes the people’s wrongs his own.
JOHN DRYDEN