Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear.
A little disdain is not amiss; a little scorn is alluring.
Thou liar of the first magnitude.
I nauseate walking tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure, Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
I know that's a secret, for it's whispered every where.
Beauty is the lover's gift.
See how love and murder will out.
Music has charms to soothe the savage beast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
Rise to meet him in a pretty disorder - yes- O, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion.
Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
Wife, spouse, my dear, joy, jewel, love, sweet-heart and the rest of that nauseous cant, in which men and their wives are so fulsomely familiar.
I chiefly made it my own care to initiate her very infancy in the rudiments of virtue, and to impress upon her tender years a young odium and aversion to the very sight of men.
If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.
They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.
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.
They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom.
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, And though late, a sure reward succeeds.
A wit should be no more sincere than a woman constant.
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.
Would she could make of me a saint,Or I of her a sinner.
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.
Wit must be foiled by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond.
Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand.
I came upstairs into the world for I was born in a cellar.
Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fitThat impudence and malice pass for wit.
O, she is the antidote to desire.
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.
More William Congreve Quotations (Based on Topics)
Wit - Woman - Fool - Education - Mind - Music - Beauty - Love - Vice & Virtue - Life - Leisure - Joy & Excitement - Man - Literature - World - Pleasure - Uncertainty - Youth - Haste - View All William Congreve Quotations
Maya Angelou - Aeschylus - William Somerville - Sophocles - Rumi - Rainer Maria Rilke - Ovid - Elizabeth Bishop - Edward Young - Allan Cunningham