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A Good Conscience Is A Port Which Is Landlocked On Every Side, Where No Winds Can Possibly Invade. There A Man May Not Only See His Own Image, But That Of His Maker, Clearly Reflected From The Undisturbed Waters.

-John Dryden

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A Good Conscience Is

John Dryden

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A Good Conscience Is A Port Which Is Landlocked On Every Side, Where No Winds Can Possibly Invade. There A Man May Not Only See His Own Image, But That Of His Maker, Clearly Reflected From The Undisturbed Waters.

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More From John Dryden

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.

Like Pilgrims To Th' Appointed Place We Tend; The World's An Inn, And Death The Journey's End.

Satire Among The Romans, But Not Among The Greeks, Was A Bitter Invective Poem.

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.

For Your Ignorance Is The Mother Of Your Devotion To Me.

Death In Itself Is Nothing; But We Fear To Be We Know Not What, We Know Not Where.

Or Hast Thou Known The World So Long In Vain?

Want Is A Bitter And A Hateful Good, Because Its Virtues Are Not Understood; Yet Many Things, Impossible To Thought, Have Been By Need To Full Perfection Brought. The Daring Of The Soul Proceeds From Thence, Sharpness Of Wit, And Active Diligence; Prudence At Once, And Fortitude It Gives; And, If In Patience Taken, Mends Our Lives.

Keen Appetite And Quick Digestion Wait On You And Yours.

Learn To Write Well, Or Not To Write At All.

The People Have A Right Supreme To Make Their Kings, For Kings Are Made For Them. All Empire Is No More Than Pow'r In Trust, Which When Resum'd, Can Be No Longer Just. Successionm For The General Good Design'd, In Its Own Wrong A Nation Cannot Bind.

Courage From Hearts And Not From Numbers Grows.

I Saw Myself The Lambent Easy Light Gild The Brown Horror, And Dispel The Night.

For Secrets Are Edged Tools, And Must Be Kept From Children And From Fools.

None, None Descends Into Himself, To Find The Secret Imperfections Of His Mind: But Every One Is Eagle-ey'd To See Another's Faults, And His Deformity.

Reason Is A Crutch For Age, But Youth Is Strong Enough To Walk Alone.

For Danger Levels Man And Brute And All Are Fellows In Their Need.

A Coward Is The Kindest Animal; 'tis The Most Forgiving Creature In A Fight.

What Passion Cannot Music Raise And Quell!

Of All The Tyrannies On Human Kind The Worst Is That Which Persecutes The Mind.

Chaucer Followed Nature Everywhere, But Was Never So Bold To Go Beyond Her.

Treason Is Greatest Where Trust Is Greatest.

Every Language Is So Full Of Its Own Proprieties That What Is Beautiful In One Is Often Barbarous, Nay, Sometimes Nonsense, In Another.

Joy Rul'd The Day, And Love The Night.

Good Sense And Good-nature Are Never Separated, Though The Ignorant World Has Thought Otherwise. Good-nature, By Which I Mean Beneficence And Candor, Is The Product Of Right Reason.

Reason Saw Not, Till Faith Sprung The Light.

That Gloomy Outside, Like A Rusty Chest, Contains The Shoring Treasure Of A Soul Resolved And Brave.

Desire Of Power, On Earth A Vicious Weed, Yet, Sprung From High, Is Of Celestial Seed: In God 'tisglory; And When Men Aspire, 'tis But A Spark Too Much Of Heavenly Fire.

Truth Is The Object Of Our Understanding, As Good Is Of Our Will; And The Understanding Can No More Be Delighted With A Lie Than The Will Can Choose An Apparent Evil.

When We View Elevated Ideas Of Nature, The Result Of That View Is Admiration, Which Is Always The Cause Of Pleasure.

Home Is The Sacred Refuge Of Our Life.

Good Sense And Good Nature Are Never Separated; And Good Nature Is The Product Of Right Reason.

Government Itself At Length Must Fall To Nature's State, Where All Have Right To All.

Those Who Write Ill, And They Who Ne'er Durst Write, Turn Critics Out Of Mere Revenge And Spite.

And Nobler Is A Limited Command, Given By The Love Of All Your Native Land, Than A Successive Title, Long And Dark, Drawn From The Mouldy Rolls Of Noah's Ark.

Imagining Is In Itself The Very Height And Life Of Poetry, Which, By A Kind Of Enthusiasm Or Extraordinary Emotion Of The Soul, Makes It Seem To Us That We Behold Those Things Which The Poet Paints.

From Harmony, From Heavenly Harmony, This Universal Frame Began: When Nature Underneath A Heap Of Jarring Atoms Lay, And Could Not Heave Her Head, The Tuneful Voice Was Heard From High, 'arise, Ye More Than Dead!' Then Cold, And Hot, And Moist, And Dry, In Order To Their Stations Leap, And Music's Power Obey. From Harmony, From Heavenly Harmony, This Universal Frame Began: From Harmony To Harmony Through All The Compass Of The Notes It Ran, The Diapason Closing Full In Man.

Silence In Times Of Suffering Is The Best.

Mighty Things From Small Beginnings Grow.

He Who Trusts Secrets To A Servant Makes Him His Master

Keeping Secrets

By Education Most Have Been Misled.

I Strongly Wish For What I Faintly Hope; Like The Daydreams Of Melancholy Men, I Think And Think In Things Impossible, Yet Love To Wander In That Golden Maze.

When He Spoke, What Tender Words He Used! So Softly, That Like Flakes Of Feathered Snow, They Melted As They Fell.

We Must Beat The Iron While It Is Hot, But We May Polish It At Leisure.

The Elephant Is Never Won By Anger; Nor Must That Man Who Would Reclaim A Lion Take Him By The Teeth.

Many Things Impossible To Thought Have Been By Need To Full Perfection Brought.

Swift Was The Race, But Short The Time To Run.

Luxurious Kings Are To Their People Lost, They Live Like Drones, Upon The Public Cost.

The Commendation Of Adversaries Is The Greatest Triumph Of A Writer, Because It Never Comes Unless Extorted.

For My Part, I Can Compare Her (a Gossip) To Nothing But The Sun; For, Like Him, She Knows No Rest, Nor Ever Sets In One Place But To Rise In Another.

No Government Has Ever Been, Or Can Ever Be, Wherein Time-servers And Blockheads Will Not Be Uppermost.

As One That Neither Seeks, Nor Shuns His Foe.

It Is Sufficient To Say, According To The Proverb, That Here Is God's Plenty.

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.

He Who Trusts A Secret To His Servant Makes His Own Man His Master.

Happy The Man, And Happy He Alone, He Who Can Call Today His Own; He Who, Secure Within, Can Say, Tomorrow Do Thy Worst, For I Have Lived Today.

The Province Of The Soul Is Large Enough To Fill Up Every Cranny Of Your Time, And Leave You Much To Answer For If One Wretch Be Damned By Your Neglect.

Politicians Neither Love Nor Hate.

Affability, Mildness, Tenderness, And A Word Which I Would Fain Bring Back To Its Original Signification Of Virtue,--i Mean Good-nature,--are Of Daily Use; They Are The Bread Of Mankind And Staff Of Life.

Content With Poverty, My Soul I Arm; And Virtue, Though In Rags, Will Keep Me Warm.

Nothing To Build, And All Things To Destroy.

Every Age Has A Kind Of Universal Genius, Which Inclines Those That Live In It To Some Particular Studies.

It Is Almost Impossible To Translate Verbally And Well At The Same Time; For The Latin (a Most Severe And Compendious Language) Often Expresses That In One Word Which Either The Barbarity Or The Narrowness Of Modern Tongues Cannot Supply In More. ...but Since Every Language Is So Full Of Its Own Proprieties That What Is Beautiful In One Is Often Barbarous, Nay, Sometimes Nonsense, In Another, It Would Be Unreasonable To Limit A Translator To The Narrow Compass Of His Author's Words; It Is Enough If He Choose Out Some Expression Which Does Not Vitiate The Sense.

There Is A Pleasure In Being Mad, Which None But Madmen Know.

Genius Must Be Born, And Never Can Be Taught.

Drinking Is The Soldier's Pleasure.

The Fool Of Nature Stood With Stupid Eyes And Gaping Mouth, That Testified Surprise.

Ever A Glutton, At Another's Cost, But In Whose Kitchen Dwells Perpetual Frost.

Dreams Are But Interludes That Fancy Makes... Sometimes Forgotten Things, Long Cast Behind Rush Forward In The Brain, And Come To Mind.

Forgotten Things

When A Man's Life Is Under Debate, The Judge Can Ne'er Too Long Deliberate.

From Plots And Treasons Heaven Preserve My Years, But Save Me Most From My Petitioners. Unsatiate As The Barren Womb Or Grave; God Cannot Grant So Much As They Can Crave.

Thou Spring'st A Leak Already In Thy Crown, A Flaw Is In Thy Ill-bak'd Vessel Found; 'tis Hollow, And Returns A Jarring Sound, Yet Thy Moist Clay Is Pliant To Command, Unwrought, And Easy To The Potter's Hand: Now Take The Mould; Now Bend Thy Mind To Feel The First Sharp Motions Of The Forming Wheel.

Self-defense Is Nature's Eldest Law.

Virgil Is So Exact In Every Word, That None Can Be Changed But For A Worse; Nor Any One Removed From Its Place, But The Harmony Will Be Altered. He Pretends Sometimes To Trip; But It Is Only To Make You Think Him In Danger Of A Fall, When He Is Most Secure.

He Has Not Learned The First Lesson Of Life Who Does Not Every Day Surmount A Fear.

Possess Your Soul With Patience.

And That The Scriptures, Though Not Everywhere Free From Corruption, Or Entire, Or Clear, Are Uncorrupt, Sufficient, Clear, Entire In All Things Which Our Needful Faith Require.

For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot Miss.

I'm A Little Wounded, But I Am Not Slain; I Will Lay Me Down To Bleed A While. Then I'll Rise And Fight Again.

Let Grace And Goodness Be The Principal Loadstone Of Thy Affections.

Blown Roses Hold Their Sweetness To The Last.

When Beauty Fires The Blood, How Love Exalts The Mind!

Presence Of Mind And Courage In Distress, Are More Than Arrives To Procure Success?

Presence Of Mind

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.

Beauty Is Nothing Else But A Just Accord And Mutual Harmony Of The Members, Animated By A Healthful Constitution.

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.

For All Have Not The Gift Of Martyrdom.

With Odorous Oil Thy Head And Hair Are Sleek; And Then Thou Kemb'st The Tuzzes On Thy Cheek: Of These, My Barbers Take A Costly Care.

There Is A Proud Modesty In Merit.

Old As I Am, For Ladies' Love Unfit, The Power Of Beauty I Remember Yet.

I Learn To Pity Woes So Like My Own.

I Am Reading Jonson's Verses To The Memory Of Shakespeare; An Insolent, Sparing, And Invidious Panegyric.

We By Art Unteach What Nature Taught.

The Secret Pleasure Of A Generous Act Is The Great Mind's Great Bribe.

I Feel My Sinews Slackened With The Fright, And A Cold Sweat Trills Down All Over My Limbs, As If I Were Dissolving Into Water.

Damn'd Neuters, In Their Middle Way Of Steering, Are Neither Fish, Nor Flesh, Nor Good Red Herring.

Old Age Creeps On Us Ere We Think It Nigh.

Music Is Inarticulate Poesy.

Uncertain Whose The Narrowest Span,--the Clown Unread, Or Half-read Gentleman.

So Poetry, Which Is In Oxford Made An Art, In London Only Is A Trade.

Jealousy Is The Jaundice Of The Soul.

Fortune, That With Malicious Joydoes Man Her Slave Oppress,proud Of Her Office To Destroy,is Seldom Pleasd To Bless.

The End Of Satire Is The Amendment Of Vices By Correction; And He Who Writes Honestly Is No More An Enemy To The Offender Than The Physician To The Patient When He Prescribes Harsh Remedies.

Inspire The Vocal Brass, Inspire; The World Is Past Its Infant Age: Arms And Honour, Arms And Honour, Set The Martial Mind On Fire, And Kindle Manly Rage.

Love Works A Different Way In Different Minds, The Fool It Enlightens And The Wise It Blinds.

Boldness Is A Mask For Fear, However Great.

Boldness And Courage

Take Not Away The Life You Cannot Give: For All Things Have An Equal Right To Live.

Desire Of Greatness Is A Godlike Sin.

Present Joys Are More To Flesh And Blood Than A Dull Prospect Of A Distant Good.

The First Is The Law, The Last Prerogative.

And After Hearing What Our Church Can Say, If Still Our Reason Runs Another Way, That Private Reason 'tis More Just To Curb, Than By Disputes The Public Peace Disturb; For Points Obscure Are Of Small Use To Learn, But Common Quiet Is Mankind's Concern.

Pity Melts The Mind To Love.

A Thing Well Said Will Be Wit In All Languages.

The Fortitude Of A Christian Consists In Patience, Not In Enterprises Which The Poets Call Heroic, And Which Are Commonly The Effects Of Interest, Pride And Worldly Honor.

Not Heav'n Itself Upon The Past Has Pow'r; But What Has Been, Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.

Sculptors Are Obliged To Follow The Manners Of The Painters, And To Make Many Ample Folds, Which Are Unsufferable Hardness, And More Like A Rock Than A Natural Garment.

Sure There's Contagion In The Tears Of Friends.

Nor Is The People's Judgment Always True: The Most May Err As Grossly As The Few.

Democracies Have

An Ugly Woman In A Rich Habit Set Out With Jewels Nothing Can Become.

But Love's A Malady Without A Cure.

Pride - Lord Of Human Kind

He Made All Countries Where He Came His Own.

War Is A Trade Of Kings.

A Narrow Mind Begets Obstinacy; We Do Not Easily Believe What We Cannot See.

Faith Is To Believe What You Do Not Yet See: The Reward For This Faith Is To See What You Believe. Thus All Below Is Strength, And All Above Is Grace.

Errors Like Straws Upon The Surface Flow, Who Would Search For Pearls To Be Grateful For Often Must Dive Below.

Mankind Is Ever The Same, And Nothing Lost Out Of Nature, Though Everything Is Altered.

All The Learn'd Are Cowards By Profession.

Great Souls Forgive Not Injuries Till Time Has Put Their Enemies Within Their Power, That They May Show Forgiveness Is Their Own.

A Happy Genius Is The Gift Of Nature.

All Things Are Subject To Decay And When Fate Summons, Monarchs Must Obey.

The True Amphitryon Is The Amphitryon Where We Dine.

Time And Death Shall Depart And Say In Flying Love Has Found Out A Way To Live, By Dying.

How Easy It Is To Call Rogue And Villain, And That Wittily! But How Hard To Make A Man Appear A Fool, A Blockhead, Or A Knave, Without Using Any Of Those Opprobrious Terms! Tosparethegrossness Ofthenames, And To Dothe Thing Yet Moreseverely, Isto Drawa Full Face, And Tomake The Nose And Cheeks Stand Out, And Yet Not To Employ Any Depth Of Shadowing.

The Wretched Have No Friends.

Thus, While The Mute Creation Downward Bend Their Sight, And To Their Earthly Mother Ten, Man Looks Aloft; And With Erected Eyes Beholds His Own Hereditary Skies.

Fattened In Vice, So Callous And So Gross, He Sins And Sees Not, Senseless Of His Loss.

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.

Pleasure Never Comes Sincere To Man; But Lent By Heaven Upon Hard Usury.

Virgil, Above All Poets, Had A Stock Which I May Call Almost Inexhaustible, Of Figurative, Elegant, And Sounding Words.

They Think Too Little Who Talk Too Much.

Youth Should Watch Joys And Shoot Them As They Fly.

Thoughts Cannot Form Themselves In Words So Horrid As Can Express My Guilt.

And Plenty Makes Us Poor.

All, As They Say, That Glitters Is Not Gold.

Rich The Treasure, Sweet The Pleasure,- Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

A Knock-down Argument; 'tis But A Word And A Blow.

Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

He Was The Man Who Of All Modern, And Perhaps Ancient Poets, Had The Largest And Most Comprehensive Soul. . . . He Was Naturally Learn'd; He Needed Not The Spectacles Of Books To Read Nature; He Looked Inwards, And Found Her There. . . . He Is Many Times Flat, Insipid; His Comic Wit Degenerating In To Clenches, His Serious Swelling Into Bombast. But He Is Always Great, When Some Occasion Is Presented To Him.

Youth, Beauty, Graceful Action Seldom Fail: But Common Interest Always Will Prevail; And Pity Never Ceases To Be Shown To Him Who Makes The People's Wrongs His Own.

For Every Inch That Is Not Fool, Is Rogue.

He Wants Worth Who Dares Not Praise A Foe.

You See Through Love, And That Deludes Your Sight, As What Is Straight Seems Crooked Through The Water.

Moderate Sorrow Fits Vulgar Love, And For A Vulgar Man: But I Have Lov'd With Such Transcendent Passion, I Soar'd, At First, Quite Out Of Reason's View, And Now Am Lost Above It.

The Love Of Liberty With Life Is Given, And Life Itself The Inferior Gift Of Heaven.

All Heiresses Are Beautiful.

Bold Knaves Thrive Without One Grain Of Sense, But Good Men Starve For Want Of Impudence.

Much Malice Mingled With A Little Wit Perhaps May Censure This Mysterious Writ.

Beware The Fury Of A Patient Man.

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!

Could Swell The Soul To Rage, Or Kindle Soft Desire.

Maintain Your Post: That's All The Fame You Need; For 'tis Impossible You Should Proceed.

He With A Graceful Pride, While His Rider Every Hand Survey'd, Sprung Loose, And Flew Into An Escapade; Not Moving Forward, Yet With Every Bound Pressing, And Seeming Still To Quit His Ground.

It's A Hard World, Neighbors, If A Man's Oath Must Be His Master.

But 'tis The Talent Of Our English Nation, Still To Be Plotting Some New Reformation.

All Flowers Will Droop In The Absence Of The Sun That Waked Their Sweets.

The Scum That Rises Upmost, When The Nation Boils.

He Look'd In Years, Yet In His Years Were Seen A Youthful Vigor, And Autumnal Green.

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.

Words Are But Pictures Of Our Thoughts.

They, Who Would Combat General Authority With Particular Opinion, Must First Establish Themselves A Reputation Of Understanding Better Than Other Men.

Such Subtle Covenants Shall Be Made,till Peace It Self Is War In Masquerade.

A Fiery Soul, Which Working Out Its Way, Fretted The Pygmy-body To Decay: And O'er-informed The Tenement Of Clay. A Daring Pilot In Extremity; Pleased With The Danger, When The Waves Went High He Sought The Storms...

The Brave Man Seeks Not Popular Applause, Nor, Overpower'd With Arms, Deserts His Cause; Unsham'd, Though Foil'd, He Does The Best He Can, Force Is Of Brutes, But Honor Is Of Man.

Among Our Crimes Oblivion May Be Set.

For All The Happiness Mankind Can Gain Is Not In Pleasure, But In Rest From Pain.

Dreams Are But Interludes, Which Fancy Makes; When Monarch Reason Sleeps, This Mimic Wakes.

The Blushing Beauties Of A Modest Maid.

When I Consider Life, 't Is All A Cheat. Yet Fool'd With Hope, Men Favour The Deceit; Trust On, And Think To-morrow Will Repay. To-morrow 's Falser Than The Former Day; Lies Worse, And While It Says We Shall Be Blest With Some New Joys, Cuts Off What We Possest. Strange Cozenage! None Would Live Past Years Again, Yet All Hope Pleasure In What Yet Remain; And From The Dregs Of Life Think To Receive What The First Sprightly Running Could Not Give.

Even Kings But Play; And When Their Part Is Done, Some Other, Worse Or Better, Mounts The Throne.

For Truth Has Such A Face And Such A Mien, As To Be Loved Needs Only To Be Seen.

The Thought Of Being Nothing After Death Is A Burden Insupportable To A Virtuous Man.

Revealed Religion First Informed Thy Sight, And Reason Saw Not Till Faith Sprung To Light.

What Judgment I Had Increases Rather Than Diminishes; And Thoughts, Such As They Are, Come Crowding In So Fast Upon Me, That My Only Difficulty Is To Choose Or Reject; To Run Them Into Verse Or To Give Them The Other Harmony Of Prose.

To Tame The Proud, The Fetter'd Slave To Free, These Are Imperial Arts.

If One Must Be Rejected, One Succeed, Make Him My Lord Within Whose Faithful Breast Is Fixed My Image, And Who Loves Me Best.

Prodigious Actions May As Well Be Done, By Weaver's Issue, As The Prince's Son.

Roused By The Lash Of His Own Stubborn Tail Our Lion Now Will Foreign Foes Assail.

Interest Makes All Seem Reason That Leads To It.

The Soft Complaining Flute, In Dying Notes, Discovers The Woes Of Hopeless Lovers.

The Sooner You Treat Your Son As A Man, The Sooner He Will Be One.

Trust Reposed In Noble Natures Obliges Them The More.

Her Wit Was More Than Man, Her Innocence A Child.

Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou Tyrant Of The Mind!

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.

They Say Everything In The World Is Good For Something.

…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

I Maintain, Against The Enemies Of The Stage, That Patterns Of Piety, Decently Represented, May Second The Precepts.

Raw In The Fields The Rude Militia Swarms, Mouth Without Hands; Maintained At Vast Expense, In Peace A Charge, In War A Weak Defence.

For Lawful Power Is Still Superior Found, When Long Driven Back, At Length It Stands The Ground.

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