John Dryden Art Quotations

Rhyme is the rock on which thou art to wreck.

We by art unteach what Nature taught.

For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.

Repartee is the soul of conversation.

What I have left is from my native spring; I've still a heart that swells, in scorn of fate, And lifts me to my banks.

Since a true knowledge of nature gives us pleasure, a lively imitation of it, either in poetry or painting, must produce a much greater; for both these arts are not only true imitations of nature, but of the best nature.

For all have not the gift of martyrdom.

Music is inarticulate poesy.

In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd: When Nature prompted, and no Law deni'd Promiscuous use of concubine and bride; Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart, His vigorous warmth did variously impart To wives and slaves: and, wide as his command, Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land.

My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public; and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.

My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.

At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.

Parting is worse than death; it is death of love!

Arts and sciences in one and the same century have arrived at great perfection; and no wonder, since every age has a kind of universal genius, which inclines those that live in it to some particular studies; the work then, being pushed on by many hands, must go forward.

Nature meant for me a wife, a silly harmless household Dove, fond without art; and kind without deceit.

Sure there is none but fears a future state; And when the most obdurate swear they do not, Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues.

To tame the proud, the fetter'd slave to free, These are imperial arts.

The gods, (if gods to goodness are inclined If acts of mercy touch their heavenly mind), And, more than all the gods, your generous heart, Conscious of worth, requite its own desert!

As when the dove returning bore the mark Of earth restored to the long labouring ark; The relics of mankind, secure at rest, Oped every window to receive the guest, And the fair bearer of the message bless'd.

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.

If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.

A woman's counsel brought us first to woe, And made her man his paradise forego, Where at heart's ease he liv'd; and might have been As free from sorrow as he was from sin.

So poetry, which is in Oxford made An art, in London only is a trade.

Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.

If the faults of men in orders are only to be judged among themselves, they are all in some sort parties; for, since they say the honour of their order is concerned in every member of it, how can we be sure that they will be impartial judges?

They who would combat general authority with particular opinion, must first establish themselves a reputation of understanding better than other men

Every age has a kind of universal genius, which includes those that live in it to some particular studies

Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.