Zitate von John Dryden
Ein bekanntes Zitat von John Dryden:
Irrtümer schwimmen wie Stroh auf der Oberfläche. Wer nach Perlen sucht, muß tief tauchen.
Informationen über John Dryden
Dichter, Literaturkritiker, Dramatiker, Vertreter des englischen Klassizismus, "Absalom and Achitophel", "Marriage à la mode", "The Hind and the Panther" (England, 1631 - 1700).
John Dryden · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
John Dryden wäre heute 393 Jahre, 7 Monate, 25 Tage oder 143.778 Tage alt.
Geboren am 09.08.1631 in Aldwincle
Gestorben am 01.05.1700 in London
Sternzeichen: ♌ Löwe
Unbekannt
Weitere 181 Zitate von John Dryden
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Arms, and the man I sing, who, forced by fate, And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate, Expelled and exiled, left the Trojan shore.
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Bacchus ever fair and young, / Drinking joys did first ordain. / Bacchus's blessings are a treasure, / Drinking is the soldier's pleasure, / Rich the treasure, / Sweet the pleasure- / Sweet is pleasure after pain.
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Better one suffer, than a nation grieve.
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Better shun the bait than struggle in the snare.
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Better to hunt in fields, for health unbought, Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise, for cure, on exercise depend; God never made his work, for man to mend.
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Beware the fury of a patient man.
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Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense, But good men starve for want of impudence.
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But 'tis the talent of our English nation, Still to be plotting some new reformation.
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But far more numerous was the herd of such Who think too little and who talk too much.
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But far more numerous was the herd of such, who think too little, and who talk to much.
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But love's a malady without a cure.
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But treason is not owned when 'tis descried; Successful crimes alone are justified.
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By education most have been misled; So they believe, because they so were bred. The priest continues what the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man.
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By viewing nature, nature's handmaid art, Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow: Thus fishes first to shipping did impart, Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow.
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Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
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Dead men tell no tales.
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Death, in itself, is nothing; but we fear, To be we know not what, we know not where.
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Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blund'ring kind of melody; Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin, Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in; Free from all meaning, whether good or bad, And in one word, heroically mad.
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Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes; When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure; Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain.