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A woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.

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
Telling
Pleasure
Woman
May
Men
Obliges
Secrecy

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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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But say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life because they once must leave us, is as preposterous as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old.
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.
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O, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion.
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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
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O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
William Congreve
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Defer not till to-morrow to be wise, To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise Or should to-morrow chance to cheer thy sight With her enlivening and unlook'd for light, How grateful will appear her dawning rays! As favours unexpected doubly please.
William Congreve
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These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into wife.
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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If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
William Congreve
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Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.
William Congreve
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Music alone with sudden charms can bind The wand'ring sense, and calm the troubled mind.
William Congreve
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Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.
William Congreve
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I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or of ill breeding.
William Congreve
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I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.
William Congreve
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There are times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth.
William Congreve
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How hard a thing 'twould be to please you all.
William Congreve
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Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd.
William Congreve
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No mask like open truth to cover lies, As to go naked is the best disguise.
William Congreve
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Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
William Congreve