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A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.
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
Wit
Sincere
Arguing
Parts
Constant
Beauty
Argues
Woman
Decay
Sincerity
More quotes by William Congreve
Beauty is the lover's gift.
William Congreve
I am a fool, I know it and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.
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
Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.
William Congreve
O, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion.
William Congreve
Guilt is ever at a loss, and confusion waits upon it when innocence and bold truth are always ready for expression.
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
I nauseate walking 'tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.
William Congreve
These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into wife.
William Congreve
If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
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
A woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.
William Congreve
I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
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.
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I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
William Congreve
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
There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased, They scarcely come inclining to be pleased: And sure he must have more than mortal Skill, Who please one against his Will.
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O, she is the antidote to desire.
William Congreve
O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
William Congreve
I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.
William Congreve