Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.
JOHN DRYDENSure there’s contagion in the tears of friends.
More John Dryden Quotes
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All heiresses are beautiful.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
JOHN DRYDEN -
All empire is no more than power in trust.
JOHN DRYDEN -
They live too long who happiness outlive.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The trumpet’s loud clangor Excites us to arms.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The conscience of a people is their power.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind’s great bribe.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.
JOHN DRYDEN -
But Shakespeare’s magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Great wits are sure to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than a dull prospect of a distant good.
JOHN DRYDEN