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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.
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
Dead
Serves
Living
Round
Plume
Rounds
Hearse
Gain
Ostrich
Vain
Ostriches
Profit
Nodding
Gains
Crown
Prove
Crowns
More quotes by John Gay
The luxury of doing good surpasses every other personal enjoyment.
John Gay
Fair words cost nothing.
John Gay
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.
John Gay
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.
John Gay
Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.
John Gay
Shall ignorance of good and ill Dare to direct the eternal will? Seek virtue, and of that possest, To Providence resign the rest.
John Gay
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.
John Gay
She who has never lov'd, has never liv'd.
John Gay
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
John Gay
I must have women - there is nothing unbends the mind like them.
John Gay
Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
John Gay
[Gulliver was soon being read] from the cabinet council to the nursery.
John Gay
Music might tame and civilize wild beasts, but 'tis evident it never yet could tame and civilize musicians.
John Gay
In beauty faults conspicuous grow The smallest speck is seen on snow.
John Gay
Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay.
John Gay
Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.
John Gay
Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
John Gay
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.
John Gay
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.
John Gay
O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, by keeping men off, you keep them on.
John Gay