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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.
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
More quotes by John Gay
Youth's the season made for joys, Love is then our duty.
John Gay
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.
John Gay
Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!
John Gay
Gamesters and highwaymen are generally very good to their whores, but they are very devils to their wives.
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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.
John Gay
Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
John Gay
Can love be controll'd by advice?
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
To friendship every burden's light.
John Gay
She who has never lov'd, has never liv'd.
John Gay
In every age and clime we see Two of a trade can never agree.
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.
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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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A man is always afraid of a woman that loves him too much
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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 luxury of doing good surpasses every other personal enjoyment.
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[Gulliver was soon being read] from the cabinet council to the nursery.
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To shoot at crows is powder flung away.
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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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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?
John Gay