Murder may pass unpunished for a time, But tardy justice will overtake the crime.
JOHN DRYDENHe look’d in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.
More John Dryden Quotes
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He who trusts secrets to a servant makes him his master.
JOHN DRYDEN -
At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 -
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 -
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
JOHN DRYDEN -
What passion cannot music raise and quell!
JOHN DRYDEN -
If the faults of men in orders are only to be judged among themselves, they are all in some sort parties; for, since they say the honour of their order is concerned in every member of it, how can we be sure that they will be impartial judges?
JOHN DRYDEN -
Imagining is in itself the very height and life of poetry, which, by a kind of enthusiasm or extraordinary emotion of the soul, makes it seem to us that we behold those things which the poet paints.
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 -
Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
JOHN DRYDEN -
A farce is that in poetry which grotesque (caricature) is in painting. The persons and actions of a farce are all unnatural, and the manners false, that is, inconsistent with the characters of mankind; and grotesque painting is the just resemblance of this.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Truth is the foundation of all knowledge and the cement of all societies.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.
JOHN DRYDEN