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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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William Congreve
Age: 58 †
Born: 1670
Born: January 24
Died: 1729
Died: January 19
Engineer
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
May
Qualify
Men
Fury
Courtesy
Rarely
Manners
Indeed
Marriage
Passion
Mends
More quotes by William Congreve
Delay not till tomorrow to be wise tomorrow's sun to thee may neve rise.
William Congreve
Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.
William Congreve
They are at the end of the gallery retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
William Congreve
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
Though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools.
William Congreve
They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.
William Congreve
A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.
William Congreve
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
I know a lady that loves to talk so incessantly, she won't give an echo fair play she has that everlasting rotation of tongue that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words!
William Congreve
Would any thing but a madman complain of uncertainty? Uncertainty and expectation are joys of life security is an insipid thing and the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly of the chase.
William Congreve
Beauty is the lover's gift.
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.
William Congreve
You are a woman: you must never speak what you think your words must contradict your thoughts, but your actions may contradict your words.
William Congreve
I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.
William Congreve
Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.
William Congreve
Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
William Congreve
I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
William Congreve
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
A little scorn is alluring.
William Congreve
I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.
William Congreve