William Congreve
William Congreve
William Congrevewas an English playwright and poet...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth24 January 1670
becomes best picture sort tenderness
Yes, but tenderness becomes me best - a sort of dyingness - you see that picture has a sort of a - ha, Foible? A swimmingness in the eyes.
against critics mortal please scarcely sure
There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased,They scarcely come inclining to be pleased:And sure he must have more than mortal Skill,Who please one against his Will.
great married strange
Let us be very strange and well-bred: Let us be as strange as if we had been married a great while; and as well-bred as if we were not married at all.
free hopes sinner win
Wou'd I were free from this restraint, Or else had hopes to win her; Wou'd she cou'd make me a saint, Or I of her a sinner
pale till veracity
If I have not fretted myself till I am pale again, there's no veracity in me.
bred education pedantic servant tis
Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an university: but the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.
discovers expectation folly insipid joys security wish
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing, through the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly of the chase.
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.
ill impudence malice manners pass
Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fitThat impudence and malice pass for wit.
Would she could make of me a saint,Or I of her a sinner.