The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDENWhile I am compassed round With mirth, my soul lies hid in shades of grief, Whence, like the bird of night, with half-shut eyes, She peeps, and sickens at the sight of day.
More John Dryden Quotes
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Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Fame then was cheap, and the first comer sped; And they have kept it since by being dead.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Errors like straws upon the surface flow, Who would search for pearls to be grateful for often must dive below.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Set all things in their own peculiar place, and know that order is the greatest grace.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The bravest men are subject most to chance.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 -
Self-defense is Nature’s eldest law.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Some of our philosophizing divines have too much exalted the faculties of our souls, when they have maintained that by their force mankind has been able to find out God.
JOHN DRYDEN -
By education most have been misled; So they believe, because they were bred. The priest continues where the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 -
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
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 -
Honor is but an empty bubble.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she’s at rest, and so am I.
JOHN DRYDEN