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War is the trade of kings.

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

Empty Enough Fortune Myself Soul
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Man Son Treat
Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
JOHN DRYDEN

Degree River Sea
Beware the fury of a patient man.
JOHN DRYDEN

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

Himself Magic Walk
We by art unteach what Nature taught.
JOHN DRYDEN

Art Nature Teaching
Honor is but an empty bubble.
JOHN DRYDEN

Empty Respect
Plots, true or false, are necessary things, To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fake King Necessary Ruin True
And that the Scriptures, though not everywhere Free from corruption, or entire, or clear, Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire In all things which our needful faith require.
JOHN DRYDEN

Corruption Faith Freedom Need Scripture Sufficient
And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDEN

Poor
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fools One Liner Patriot
What passion cannot music raise and quell!
JOHN DRYDEN

Music Passion Raise
A woman’s counsel brought us first to woe, And made her man his paradise forego, Where at heart’s ease he liv’d; and might have been As free from sorrow as he was from sin.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Man Paradise Sin Sorrow Woman
But when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means; And providently pimps for ill desires.
JOHN DRYDEN

Desire Hands Nature Sick Sin
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
War is the trade of kings.
JOHN DRYDEN

King One Liner Trade War
Those who write ill, and they who ne’er durst write, Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite.
JOHN DRYDEN

Criticism Revenge Writing
Virtue is her own reward.
JOHN DRYDEN

One Liner Reward Virtue
While 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.
JOHN DRYDEN

Day Eyes Round Shade Sight Soul
They first condemn that first advised the ill.
JOHN DRYDEN

Advise Sick
Truth is never to be expected from authors whose understanding is warped with enthusiasm.
JOHN DRYDEN

Authors Enthusiasm Expectation Truth
Griefs assured are felt before they come.
JOHN DRYDEN

Assurance Feeling Grief
The winds are out of breath.
JOHN DRYDEN

Breathe Wind
By education most have been misled.
JOHN DRYDEN

Direction Education One Liner
They that possess the prince possess the laws.
JOHN DRYDEN

Law Possession Prince
Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fly Joy Youth
Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
JOHN DRYDEN

Crime Oblivion

War is the trade of kings.

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War is the trade of kings.

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