William Congreve
William Congreve
William Congrevewas an English playwright and poet...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth24 January 1670
mind of-my-mind lays
Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.
soul thee states
Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee; thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.
littles scorn alluring
A little scorn is alluring.
father glasses idlers
Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools: they have need of 'em: wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation, and let father Time shake his glass.
brain black despair
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.
science reflection long
I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections.
tea scandal ancient
They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
marriage grief high-heels
Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
expectations joy risk
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.
blessing waiting rewards
Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
world upstairs born
I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.
beauty decay arguing
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.
revenge hate one-day
She once used me with that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces; sifted her, and separated her failings; I studied 'em, and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other to hate her heartily.
secret knows
I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.