Quote

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.

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
Ground
Dear
Cold
Hard
Lodging
Grieves
Coldness
Fare
Grieving

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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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Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
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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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O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, by keeping men off, you keep them on.
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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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Youth's the season made for joys, Love is then our duty.
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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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Sure men were born to lie, and women to believe them!
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Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
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Praising all alike, is praising none.
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Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.
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Learning by study must be won 'Twas ne'er entail'd from son to son.
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Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay.
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Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
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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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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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Music might tame and civilize wild beasts, but 'tis evident it never yet could tame and civilize musicians.
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Envy is a kind of praise.
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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 man is always afraid of a woman that loves him too much
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