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No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.

John Gay

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John Gay
Age: 47 †
Born: 1685
Born: June 30
Died: 1732
Died: December 4
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Barnstaple
Devon
Retreat
Conquer
Victory
Dies
Must

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Fair words cost nothing.
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My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.
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Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
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Some folks of cider make a rout And cider's well enough no doubt When better liquors fail But wine, that's richer, better still, Ev'n wine itself (deny't who will) Must yield to nappy ale
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Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.
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Envy is a kind of praise.
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Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them!
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I cannot raise my worth too high Of what vast consequence am I! Not of the importance you suppose, Replies a Flea upon his nose Be humble, learn thyself to scan Know, pride was never made for man.
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To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride: Let Nature guide thee sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail.
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Gamesters and highwaymen are generally very good to their whores, but they are very devils to their wives.
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Lions, wolves, and vultures don't live together in herds, droves or flocks. Of all animals of prey, man is the only sociable one. Every one of us preys upon his neighbor, and yet we herd together.
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The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.
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A man is always afraid of a woman that loves him too much
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Man may escape from rope and gun Nay, some have outlived the doctor's pill: Who takes a woman must be undone, That basilisk is sure to kill. The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets, So he that tastes woman, woman, woman, He that tastes woman, ruin meets.
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Fill ev'ry glass, for wine inspires us, And fires us With courage, love and joy. Women and wine should life employ. Is there ought else on earth desirous?
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Who hath not heard the rich complain Of surfeits, and corporeal pain? He barr'd from every use of wealth, Envies the ploughman's strength and health.
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Praising all alike, is praising none.
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[Gulliver was soon being read] from the cabinet council to the nursery.
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The luxury of doing good surpasses every other personal enjoyment.
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Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
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