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The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.

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
Treacle
Sips
Sweets
Sweet
Lost

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Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay.
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Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.
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Envy is a kind of praise.
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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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[Gulliver was soon being read] from the cabinet council to the nursery.
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Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
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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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In beauty faults conspicuous grow The smallest speck is seen on snow.
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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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Can love be controll'd by advice?
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Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
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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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O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, by keeping men off, you keep them on.
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The careful insect 'midst his works I view, Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew, With golden treasures load his little thighs, And steer his distant journey through the skies.
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Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.
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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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Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
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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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No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.
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Fair words cost nothing.
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