Poet John Dryden

John Dryden

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John Dryden Quotes

Look around the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
We must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure.
Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.
We first make our habits, and then our habits make us.
Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today.
They think to little who talk to much.
The gates of Hell are open night and day Smooth the descent, and easy is the way But, to return, and view the cheerful skies In this, the task and mighty labor lies.
The conscience of a people is their power.
Set all things in their own peculiar place, and know that order is the greatest grace.
Reason to rule but mercy to forgive The first is the law, the last prerogative.
Pains of love be sweeter far Than all other pleasures are.
Men are but children of a larger growth, Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain.
Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end; whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
A mob is the scum that rises upmost when the nation boils.
How can finite grasp infinity
Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own: He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Great wits are sure to madness near allied And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Dreams are but interludes that fancy makes... Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
Death in itself is nothing but we fear To be we know not what, we know not where.
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little and who talk too much.
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little and who talk too much.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Beware of the fury of the patient man.
Better shun the bait, than struggle in the snare.
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.

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