And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDENNone 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.
More John Dryden Quotes
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For they can conquer who believe they can.
JOHN DRYDEN -
What passion cannot music raise and quell!
JOHN DRYDEN -
A man is to be cheated into passion, but to be reasoned into truth.
JOHN DRYDEN -
It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
JOHN DRYDEN -
For age but tastes of pleasures youth devours.
JOHN DRYDEN -
They think too little who talk too much.
JOHN DRYDEN -
None but the brave deserve the fair.
JOHN DRYDEN -
War is the trade of kings.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Set all things in their own peculiar place, and know that order is the greatest grace.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes… Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Beware of the fury of the patient man.
JOHN DRYDEN -
Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
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