Quotes from John Dryden

But love's a malady without a cure.

Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son.

Reason is a crutch for age, but youth is strong enough to walk alone.

Your Cleopatra; Dolabella's Cleopatra; every man's Cleopatra.

Only man clogs his happiness with care, destroying what is with thoughts of what may be.

Sound the trumpets; beat the drums…Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.

O gracious God! how far have weProfaned thy heavenly gift of poesy!

Possess your soul with patience.

His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.

The wretched have no friends.

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.

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.

This is the porcelain clay of humankind.

All, all of a piece throughout:Thy chase had a beast in view;Thy wars brought nothing about;Thy lovers were all untrue.'Tis well an old age is out,And time to begin a new.

And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.

He has not learned the first lesson of life who does not every day surmount a fear.

Seek not to know what must not be reveal, for joy only flows where fate is most concealed. A busy person would find their sorrows much more if future fortunes were known before!

The trumpet shall be heard on highThe dead shall live, the living die,And Music shall untune the sky!

Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.

The soft complaining flute,In dying notes, discoversThe woes of hopeless lovers.

Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yetIn his own worth.

A mob is the scum that rises upmost when the nation boils.

All human things are subject to decay, and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.

All human things are subject to decay,And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obeyThis Flecknoe found, who like Augustus youngWas call'd to empire, and had govern'd longIn prose and verse, was own'd, without disputeThrough all the realms of nonsense, absolute.