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 DRYDENIt is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.
More John Dryden Quotes
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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 -
There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Let 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.
JOHN DRYDEN -
They live too long who happiness outlive.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Trust on and think To-morrow will repay; To-morrow’s falser than the former day; Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blest With some new Joys, cuts off what we possest.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Nor is the people’s judgment always true: the most may err as grossly as the few.
JOHN DRYDEN -
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 DRYDEN -
Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself can find, A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, Condemns the wretch, and still the charge renews.
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 -
For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
JOHN DRYDEN -
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
JOHN DRYDEN -
I saw myself the lambent easy light Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Sure there’s contagion in the tears of friends.
JOHN DRYDEN -
O freedom, first delight of human kind!
JOHN DRYDEN