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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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William Congreve
Age: 58 †
Born: 1670
Born: January 24
Died: 1729
Died: January 19
Engineer
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Never
Pray
Letters
Praying
Madam
Poetry
Verse
Hair
Pins
Keep
Verses
Find
Copies
Must
Prose
More quotes by 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
O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.
William Congreve
Though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools.
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
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
Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.
William Congreve
Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.
William Congreve
Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
William Congreve
One minute gives invention to destroy What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.
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
I nauseate walking 'tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.
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
Words are the weak support of cold indifference love has no language to be heard.
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
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.
William Congreve
Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast...
William Congreve
Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
William Congreve
Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined.
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
If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
William Congreve
