black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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 Dryden

Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense, But good men starve for want of impudence.
JOHN DRYDEN

Bold Goodness Starve
Errors like straws upon the surface flow, Who would search for pearls to be grateful for often must dive below.
JOHN DRYDEN

Errors Flow Gratitude Surface
A narrow mind begets obstinacy; we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
JOHN DRYDEN

Believe Easy Invisible Mindset Unknown
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

Character Kind Man Natural Painting Person Poetry
To die for faction is a common evil, But to be hanged for nonsense is the devil.
JOHN DRYDEN

Common Death Devil Evil
All authors to their own defects are blind.
JOHN DRYDEN

Author Blind Defect
Beware the fury of a patient man.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fury Man Patience
So softly death succeeded life in her, She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Dreams Heaven Herself Life Success
None would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; And, from the dregs of life, think to receive, What the first sprightly running could not give.
JOHN DRYDEN

Hope Life Live Pleasure Run Thinking
Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fair Fate Myself Possession Rain Shine Time
Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the’ appointed place we tend; The world’s an inn, and death the journey’s end.
JOHN DRYDEN

Boast Born Death End Journey Live Man Place Sincere
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

Estate Himself Misery Money Sell Soul
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy.
JOHN DRYDEN

Build Destroy
But Shakespeare’s magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Magic Walk
Sure there’s contagion in the tears of friends.
JOHN DRYDEN

Friendship Tears
If passion rules, how weak does reason prove!
JOHN DRYDEN

Evidence Passion Reason Rule Weakness

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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More John Dryden Quotes