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Do you think your mother and I should have lived comfortably so long together, if ever we had been married? Baggage!

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
Think
Comfortably
Thinking
Baggage
Lived
Married
Mother
Together
Ever
Long

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Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
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Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
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What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air, Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare. Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians' food, And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.
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Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.
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Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon'd round, And with the nodding plume of ostrich crown'd? No the dead know it not, nor profit gain It only serves to prove the living vain.
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Envy's a sharper spur than pay: No author ever spar'd a brother Wits are gamecocks to one another.
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I must have women - there is nothing unbends the mind like them.
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Shall ignorance of good and ill Dare to direct the eternal will? Seek virtue, and of that possest, To Providence resign the rest.
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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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In every age and clime we see Two of a trade can never agree.
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In beauty faults conspicuous grow The smallest speck is seen on snow.
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If the heart of a man is depressed with cares, The mist is dispelled when a woman appears.
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To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
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Can you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in gaming, drinking and whoring? Have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about who shall squander most?
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She who has never lov'd, has never liv'd.
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Is there no hope? the sick man said, The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow.
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Nor love, not honor, wealth nor power, can give the heart a cheerful hour when health is lost. Be timely wise With health all taste of pleasure flies.
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Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay.
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O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, by keeping men off, you keep them on.
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A rich rogue nowadays is fit company for any gentleman and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine.
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