John Dryden

War is the trade of Kings.

For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.

Dancing is the poetry of the foot.

Beware the fury of a patient man.

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.

But love's a malady without a cure.

Love is love's reward.

Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

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

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

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!

Forgiveness to the injured does belong but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong.

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

Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.

By education most have been misled So they believe, because they were bred. The priest continues where the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man.

Death in itself is nothing but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves.

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.