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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

John Dryden

Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
JOHN DRYDEN

Dance Foot Poetry
Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
JOHN DRYDEN

Best Kind Ourselves Steal
Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.
JOHN DRYDEN

Human Kind Mindset Worst
When a man’s life is under debate, The judge can ne’er too long deliberate.
JOHN DRYDEN

Judgement Life Man
For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
JOHN DRYDEN

Art Miss Mistake Nature
Virtue is her own reward.
JOHN DRYDEN

One Liner Reward Virtue
When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cheating Favor Fools Hope Life
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
Some of our philosophizing divines have too much exalted the faculties of our souls, when they have maintained that by their force mankind has been able to find out God.
JOHN DRYDEN

Divine Faculty Force God Kind Man Philosophy
For what can power give more than food and drink, To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
JOHN DRYDEN

Bound Drink Food Live Power Thinking
Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres.
JOHN DRYDEN

Body Break Preservation Shame Spirit
There is a proud modesty in merit.
JOHN DRYDEN

Advantage Modesty Proud
And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.
JOHN DRYDEN

Plate Time Writing
They first condemn that first advised the ill.
JOHN DRYDEN

Advise Sick
Truth is the foundation of all knowledge and the cement of all societies.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cement Foundation Knowledge Society Truth
I’m a little wounded, but I am not slain; I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I’ll rise and fight again.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fight Myself Rise Wound

Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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