Quotes from 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.

And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.

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.

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.

Home is the sacred refuge of our life.

I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language.

A knock-down argument; 'tis but a word and a blow.

Words are but pictures of our thoughts.

If you be pungent, be brief; for it is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed the deeper they burn.

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.

Murder may pass unpunishd for a time, But tardy justice will oertake the crime.

Great souls forgive not injuries till time has put their enemies within their power, that they may show forgiveness is their own.

No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.

Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flingsOf kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.

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.

Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.

Time glides with undiscover'd haste; The future but a length behind the past.

Swift was the race, but short the time to run.

[T]he Famous Rules which the French call, Des Trois Unitez , or, The Three Unities, which ought to be observ'd in every Regular Play; namely, of Time, Place, and Action.

The province of the soul is large enough to fill up every cranny of your time, and leave you much to answer for if one wretch be damned by your neglect.

Love is a child that talks in broken language, yet then he speaks most plain.

You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.

Calms appear, when Storms are past; Love will have his Hour at last: Nature is my kindly Care; Mars destroys, and I repair; Take me, take me, while you may, Venus comes not ev'ry Day.

Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.