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Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
William Congreve
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William Congreve
Age: 58 †
Born: 1670
Born: January 24
Died: 1729
Died: January 19
Engineer
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
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Though
Rewards
Ever
Deeds
Wait
Blessing
Succeed
Succeeds
Late
Blessings
Waiting
Virtuous
Sure
Reward
More quotes by William Congreve
I am always of the opinion with the learned, if they speak first.
William Congreve
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
William Congreve
If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.
William Congreve
A woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.
William Congreve
Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.
William Congreve
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.
William Congreve
O, she is the antidote to desire.
William Congreve
How hard a thing 'twould be to please you all.
William Congreve
These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into wife.
William Congreve
Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.
William Congreve
I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
William Congreve
Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools: they have need of 'em: wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation, and let father Time shake his glass.
William Congreve
O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
William Congreve
All well bred persons lie - Besides, you are a woman you must never speak what you think.
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
Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.
William Congreve
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
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
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
I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections.
William Congreve
