John Dryden (/ˈdraɪdən/; 19 August [O.S. 9 August] 1631 – 12 May [O.S. 1 May] 1700) was an English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright who was made England's first Poet Laureate in 1668.
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
Want is a bitter and a hateful good, Because its virtues are not understood; Yet many things, impossible to thought, Have been by need to full perfection brought. The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, Sharpness of wit, and active diligence; Prudence at once, and fortitude it gives; And, if in patience taken, mends our lives.
Errors like straws upon the surface flow, Who would search for pearls to be grateful for often must dive below.
Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
Order is the greatest grace.
The commendation of adversaries is the greatest triumph of a writer, because it never comes unless extorted.
Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
Truth is the foundation of all knowledge and the cement of all societies.
It is madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because by herself she is nothing and is ruled by prudence.
Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, abhors the cruel.
And he, who servilely creeps after sense, Is safe, but ne'er will reach an excellence.
The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme, The young men's vision, and the old men's dream!
From Harmony, from heav'nly Harmony. This universal Frame began.
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.
Hushed as midnight silence.
God has endowed man with inalienable rights, among which are self-government, reason, and conscience. Man is properly self-governed only when he is guided rightly and governed by his Maker, divine Truth and Love.
Criticism is now become mere hangman's work, and meddles only with the faults of authors ; nay, the critic is disgusted less with their absurdities than excellence ; and you cannot displease him more than in leaving him little room for his malice.
A narrow mind begets obstinacy; we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
More liberty begets desire of more; The hunger still increases with the store
What, start at this! when sixty years have spread. Their grey experience o'er thy hoary head? Is this the all observing age could gain? Or hast thou known the world so long in vain?