Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

Quote by John Dryden

Topics: John Dryden Quotes

Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue!

Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue!

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

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

Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.

Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.

Either be wholly slaves or wholly free.

Either be wholly slaves or wholly free.

Honor is but an empty bubble.

Honor is but an empty bubble.

What passions cannot music raise or quell?

What passions cannot music raise or quell?

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own; he...

Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own; he...

Errors like straws upon the surface flow: Who would search for pearls must dive below

Errors like straws upon the surface flow: Who would search for pearls must dive below

Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres.

Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres.

None but the brave deserves the fair.

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; And every little absence is an...

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; And every little absence is an...

By education most have been misled; so they believe, because they were bred. The priest...

By education most have been misled; so they believe, because they were bred. The priest...

For, Heaven be thank'd, we live in such an age, when no man dies for...

For, Heaven be thank'd, we live in such an age, when no man dies for...

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an...

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an...

War is the trade of kings.

War is the trade of kings.

The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.

The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.

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

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

And plenty makes us poor.

And plenty makes us poor.