John Dryden

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.

Of no distemper, of no blast he died, _x000D_ But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long: _x000D_ Even wonder'd at, because he dropp'd no sooner. _x000D_ Fate seem'd to wind him up for fourscore years; _x000D_ Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; _x000D_ Till like a clock worn out with eating time, _x000D_ The wheels of weary life at last stood still.

Or hast thou known the world so long in vain?

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

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

And write whatever Time shall bring to pass_x000D_ _x000D_ With pens of adamant on plates of brass.

…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky

Whatever is, is in its causes just.

It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.

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.

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?

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.

When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.

She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.

The longest tyranny that ever sway'd_x000D_ _x000D_ Was that wherein our ancestors betray'd_x000D_ _x000D_ Their free-born reason to the Stagirite [Aristotle],_x000D_ _x000D_ And made his torch their universal light._x000D_ _x000D_ So truth, while only one suppli'd the state,_x000D_ _x000D_ Grew scarce, and dear, and yet sophisticate.

Content with poverty, my soul I arm; And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.

Genius must be born, and never can be taught.

Love either finds equality or makes it.

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

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.

Fool, not to know that love endures no tie,_x000D_ _x000D_ And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.