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She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.
William Congreve
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William Congreve
Age: 58 †
Born: 1670
Born: January 24
Died: 1729
Died: January 19
Engineer
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Hate
Forgets
Others
Laughs
Thing
Hates
Despise
Prize
Likes
Laughing
Despises
Forget
Prizes
More quotes by William Congreve
Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
William Congreve
He that first cries out stop thief, is often he that has stolen the treasure.
William Congreve
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
William Congreve
I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.
William Congreve
Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.
William Congreve
Though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools.
William Congreve
Let us be very strange and well-bred:Let us be as strange as if we had been married a great whileAnd as well-bred as if we were not married at all.
William Congreve
He who closes his ears to the views of others shows little confidence in the integrity of his own views.
William Congreve
O, she is the antidote to desire.
William Congreve
Mr Witwould: Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies. Mrs Millamant: Only with those in verse.... I never pin up my hair with prose.
William Congreve
Turn pimp, flatterer, quack, lawyer, parson, be chaplain to an atheist, or stallion to an old woman, anything but a poet for a poet is worse, more servile, timorous and fawning than any I have named.
William Congreve
I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
William Congreve
If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.
William Congreve
Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand
William Congreve
O ay, letters - I had letters - I am persecuted with letters - I hate letters - nobody knows how to write letters and yet one has 'em, one does not know why - they serve one to pin up one's hair.
William Congreve
Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, and, as with living souls, have been inform'd, by magic numbers and persuasive sound.
William Congreve
One minute gives invention to destroy What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.
William Congreve
She once used me with that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces sifted her, and separated her failings I studied 'em, and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other to hate her heartily.
William Congreve
Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.
William Congreve
Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.
William Congreve
