Quote

Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, and, as with living souls, have been inform'd, by magic numbers and persuasive sound.

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
Soul
Souls
Persuasive
Music
Moved
Oaks
Things
Rocks
Savage
Knotted
Magic
Bend
Soothe
Numbers
Savages
Soften
Sound
Breast
Inanimate
Read
Breasts
Charms
Living
Charm
Inform

More quotes by 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.
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Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study.
William Congreve
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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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They are at the end of the gallery retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
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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.
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He that first cries out stop thief, is often he that has stolen the treasure.
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Women like flames have a destroying power never to be quenched till they themselves devour.
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How hard a thing 'twould be to please you all.
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O, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion.
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Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
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Guilt is ever at a loss, and confusion waits upon it when innocence and bold truth are always ready for expression.
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If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
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I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials.
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Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined.
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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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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.
William Congreve
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One minute gives invention to destroy What to rebuild, will a whole age employ.
William Congreve
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Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
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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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