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If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.

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
Bleed
Delight
Others
Heart
Love
Life

More quotes by William Congreve

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To converse with Scandal is to play at Losing Loadum, you must lose a good name to him, before you can win it for yourself.
William Congreve
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I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.
William Congreve
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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.
William Congreve
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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
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One minute gives invention to destroy What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.
William Congreve
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Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast...
William Congreve
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Every man plays the fool once in his live, but to marry is playing the fool all one's life long.
William Congreve
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Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
William Congreve
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Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.
William Congreve
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Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear.
William Congreve
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There is in true Beauty, as in Courage, somewhat which narrow Souls cannot dare to admire.
William Congreve
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A little scorn is alluring.
William Congreve
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A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.
William Congreve
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If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.
William Congreve
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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
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Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t'other.
William Congreve
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Marriage indeed may qualify the fury of his passion, but it very rarely mends a man's manners.
William Congreve
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Marriage is honourable, as you say and if so, wherefore should Cuckoldom be a Discredit, being deriv'd from so honourable a Root?
William Congreve
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Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
William Congreve
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Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.
William Congreve