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Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.

John Dryden

The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Man Son Treat
If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.
JOHN DRYDEN

Bound Habit Slave Vice
Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Fear Known
Beware of the fury of the patient man.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beware Man Patience
Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
JOHN DRYDEN

Lost Mild Rage Sea Wind
The love of liberty with life is given, And life itself the inferior gift of Heaven.
JOHN DRYDEN

Gift Heaven Liberty Life Love
Freedom which in no other land will thrive, Freedom an English subject’s sole prerogative.
JOHN DRYDEN

Freedom Subject Thrive
Sure there is none but fears a future state; And when the most obdurate swear they do not, Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues.
JOHN DRYDEN

Future Heart State Tongue Tremble
Time glides with undiscover’d haste; The future but a length behind the past.
JOHN DRYDEN

Discover Future Glide Haste Length Past
Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
JOHN DRYDEN

Degree River Sea
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
Old as I am, for ladies’ love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
JOHN DRYDEN

Myself Old Power Remember
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
Tis a good thing to laugh at any rate; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness.
JOHN DRYDEN

Goodness Happiness Instrument Laughter Man Rate
And love’s the noblest frailty of the mind.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fragile Love Mindset
Love and Time with reverence use, Treat them like a parting friend: Nor the golden gifts refuse Which in youth sincere they send: For each year their price is more, And they less simple than before.
JOHN DRYDEN

Friendship Love Price Time Treat

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.

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Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.

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Popular Authors

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