Quotes by John Dryden
But love's a malady without a cure.
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.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.
War is the trade of Kings.
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