Quotes by Matthew Prior

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Matthew Prior (July 21, 1664 September 18, 1721) was an English poet and diplomat.

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Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake.

Who walks the fastest, but walks astray, is only furthest from his way.
Be to their virtue very kind; be to their faults a little blind.
In argument similes are like songs in love; they describe much, but prove nothing.
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.
Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song?
They talk most who have the least to say.
Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise.
They never taste who always drink; they always talk who never think.
Cured yesterday of my disease, I died last night of my physician.
To John I owed great obligation; but John, unhappily, thought fit to publish it to all the nation: Sure John and I are more than quit.
And 'tis remarkable that they talk most who have the least to say.
No, no; for my virginity, When I lose that, says Rose, I'll die: Behind the elms, last night, cried Dick, Rose, were you not extremely sick?
The circling months begin this day, To run their yearly ring, And long-breath'd time which ne'er will stay, Refits his wings, and shoots away, It round again to bring.

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