William Congreve Quotes - Page 3

I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.

These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into wife.

A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.

Who pleases one against his will.

Beauty is the lover's gift.

I nauseate walking; 'tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.

I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.

Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.

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.

O ay, letters - I had letters - I am persecuted with letters - I hate letters - nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has 'em, one does not know why - they serve one to pin up one's hair.

All well bred persons lie - Besides, you are a woman; you must never speak what you think.

Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.

No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.

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.

Mr Witwould: "Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies." Mrs Millamant: "Only with those in verse.... I never pin up my hair with prose."

I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.

Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.

One minute gives invention to destroy; What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.

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.

Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.

A woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.

Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t'other.

Marriage is honourable, as you say; and if so, wherefore should Cuckoldom be a Discredit, being deriv'd from so honourable a Root?

Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.