Quote

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

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William Congreve
Age: 58 †
Born: 1670
Born: January 24
Died: 1729
Died: January 19
Engineer
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Must
Waiting
Lady
Giving
Talk
Catch
Dies
Till
Lasts
Fairs
Rotation
Last
Tongue
Incessantly
Words
Fair
Echo
Give
Loves
Echoes
Play
Wait
Everlasting

More quotes by 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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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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In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.
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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
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How hard a thing 'twould be to please you all.
William Congreve
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I am a fool, I know it and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.
William Congreve
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Courtship is to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
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Beauty is the lover's gift.
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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.
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Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
William Congreve
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If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.
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I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.
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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Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd.
William Congreve
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Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand
William Congreve
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If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.
William Congreve
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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
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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
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Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
William Congreve
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I am always of the opinion with the learned, if they speak first.
William Congreve