If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
“Heav'n hath no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd.” — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Love's but a frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Love's but the frailty of the mind, When 'tis not with ambition joined; A sickly flame, which if not fed expires; And… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
“True, 'tis an unhappy circumstance of life that love should ever die before us, and that the man so often should outlive… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Words are the weak support of cold indifference; love has no language to be heard. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
I know a lady that loves to talk so incessantly, she won't give an echo fair play; she has that everlasting rotation… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Mr Witwould: "Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies." Mrs Millamant: "Only with… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
He who closes his ears to the views of others shows little confidence in the integrity of his own views. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing, through the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
“One no more owes one's beauty to a lover than one's wit to an echo” — william congreve Copy Share Image
I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
They are at the end of the gallery; retired to their tea and scandal, according to their ancient custom. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
There is in true Beauty, as in Courage, somewhat which narrow Souls cannot dare to admire. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit. — William Congreve Copy Share Image
There is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality than to laugh ... 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion! — William Congreve Copy Share Image
Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go… — William Congreve Copy Share Image
