A wit should be no more sincere than a woman constant.
William Congreve Quotes
Wou’d I were free from this restraint, Or else had hopes to win her; Wou’d she cou’d make me a saint, Or I of her a sinner.
Nature, to each allots his proper Sphere, But, that forsaken, we like Comets err: Toss’d thro’ the Void, by some rude Shock we’re broke, And all our boasted Fire is lost in Smoke.
Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.
I nauseate walking; ’tis a country diversion; I loathe the country.
She is chaste who was never asked the question.
Beauty is the lover’s gift.
There is in true beauty something which vulgar cannot admire.