Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
William Congreve
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
William Congreve
I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
William Congreve
I know that's a secret, for it's whispered every where.
William Congreve
If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.
William Congreve
If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
William Congreve
In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.
William Congreve
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.
William Congreve
Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.
William Congreve
Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
William Congreve
Never go to bed angry, stay up and fight.
William Congreve
Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.
William Congreve
They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
William Congreve
They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.
William Congreve
'Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.
William Congreve
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.
William Congreve
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Type:
Poet
Date of Birth:
1670-02-10
Year of Death:
1729
Nationality:
English |