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Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
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
Pleasure
Repent
Upon
Heels
Still
Leisure
Thus
Grief
Married
Marriage
Treads
Walks
Haste
More quotes by William Congreve
Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
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Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
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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.
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They are at the end of the gallery retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
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I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
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But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.
William Congreve
Courtship is to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
William Congreve
How hard a thing 'twould be to please you all.
William Congreve
Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.
William Congreve
I am always of the opinion with the learned, if they speak first.
William Congreve
Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand
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Who pleases one against his will.
William Congreve
I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
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Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.
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
To find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task.
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Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
William Congreve
He that first cries out stop thief, is often he that has stolen the treasure.
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Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined.
William Congreve
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise, To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise Or should to-morrow chance to cheer thy sight With her enlivening and unlook'd for light, How grateful will appear her dawning rays! As favours unexpected doubly please.
William Congreve
