John Dryden Fate Quotations

Love is not in our choice but in our fate.

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!

All things are subject to decay and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.

If this were the last day of your life, my friend Tell me, what do you think you would do then? Stand up to the blow, that fate has struck upon you? Make the most of all you still have coming to you? or Lay down on the ground and let the tears flow f

All humane things are subject to decay, And, when fate summons, Monarchs must obey.

The Fates but only spin the coarser clue; The finest of the wool is left for you.

The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.

Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long,- Even wonder'd at, because he dropp'd no sooner. Fate seem'd to wind him up for fourscore years, Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still.

For those whom God to ruin has design'd, He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.

Ill news is wing'd with fate, and flies apace.

Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.

Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

When the Sun sets, shadows, that shew'd at Noon But small, appear most long and terrible; So, when we think Fate hovers o'er our Heads, Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds, Owls, Ravens, Crickets seem the watch of death, Nature's worst Vermine scare her God-like Sons. Ecchoes the very leavings of a Voice, Grow babling Ghosts, and call us to our Graves: Each Mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus, While we fantastick Dreamers heave and puff, And sweat with an Imagination's weight...

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.

Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more; Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's: Souls know no conquerors.

An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.