But loves a malady without a cure. – John Dryden
So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil. – John Dryden

But loves a malady without a cure. – John Dryden
So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil. – John Dryden
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. – John Dryden