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A little scorn is alluring.

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
Alluring
Scorn
Littles
Little

More quotes by William Congreve

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Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined.
William Congreve
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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
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They are at the end of the gallery retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
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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Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.
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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I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.
William Congreve
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O, she is the antidote to desire.
William Congreve
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Delay not till tomorrow to be wise tomorrow's sun to thee may neve rise.
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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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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I am a fool, I know it and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.
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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O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
William Congreve
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Love's but the frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined A sickly flame, which if not fed expires And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires.
William Congreve
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Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.
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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I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
William Congreve
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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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It is the business of a comic poet to paint the vices and follies of human kind.
William Congreve