Quote

Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy. Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy!

Colley Cibber

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Colley Cibber
Age: 86 †
Born: 1671
Born: November 6
Died: 1757
Died: December 11
Actor
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
London
England
Sing
Cheerfulness
Kings
Blindness
Blind
Contentment
Boys
Cheer
Poor
Destroy
Cannot
King
Mind
Although
Thus
Whilst

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A weak invention of the Enemy.
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Oh! How many torments lie in the small circle of a wedding ring.
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The wretch that fears to drown, will break through flames Or, in his dread of flames, will plunge in waves. When eagles are in view, the screaming doves Will cower beneath the feet of man for safety.
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What have I done? What horrid crime committed? To me the worst of crimes-outliv'd my liking.
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The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian domeOutlives in fame the pious fool that rais'd it.
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I've lately had two spiders Crawling upon my startled hopes-- Now though thy friendly hand has brushed 'em from me, Yet still they crawl offensive to mine eyes: I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em.
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Possession is eleven points in the law.
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When we are conscious of the least comparative merit in ourselves, we should take as much care to conceal the value we set upon it, as if it were a real defect to be elated or vain upon it is showing your money before people in want.
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Who fears t' offend takes the first step to please.
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You know, one had as good be out of the world, as out of the fashion.
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Banish that fear my flame can never waste, For love sincere refines upon the taste.
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Tea! thou soft, sober, sage and venerable liquid- thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink-tippling cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall prostrate.
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Losers must have leave to speak.
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The happy have whole days.
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Faint is the bliss, that never past thro' pain.
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Stolen sweets are best.
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The happy have whole days, and those they choose. The unhappy have but hours, and those they lose.
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We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman scorned, slighted, dismissed without a parting pang.
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So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her love.
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