Fiction is of the essence of poetry as well as of painting; there is a resemblance in one of human bodies, things, and actions which are not real, and in the other of a true story by fiction.
JOHN DRYDENThere’s a proud modesty in merit; averse from asking, and resolved to pay ten times the gifts it asks.
More John Dryden Quotes
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Imagining is in itself the very height and life of poetry, which, by a kind of enthusiasm or extraordinary emotion of the soul, makes it seem to us that we behold those things which the poet paints.
JOHN DRYDEN -
He look’d in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
JOHN DRYDEN -
By education most have been misled; So they believe, because they were bred. The priest continues where the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man.
JOHN DRYDEN -
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Truth is the foundation of all knowledge and the cement of all societies.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Good sense and good-nature are never separated, though the ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good-nature, by which I mean beneficence and candor, is the product of right reason.
JOHN DRYDEN -
All delays are dangerous in war.
JOHN DRYDEN -
We must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure.
JOHN DRYDEN -
A narrow mind begets obstinacy; we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.
JOHN DRYDEN