The worst thing an old man can be is a lover.
Greatness, thou gaudy torment of out souls, The wise man's fetter, and the rage of fools.
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he Was born most noble that was born most free; Each of himself was lord; and unconfin'd Obey'd the dictates of his godlike mind.
Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together.
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee To temper man: we had been brutes without you.
Clocks will go as they are set, but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain.
Who can describe Women's hypocrisies! their subtle wiles, Betraying smiles, feign'd tears, inconstancies! Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds, The sum of all their follies, and their falsehoods.
False as the adulterate promises of favorites in power when poor men court them.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
Children blessings seem, but torments are.
You talk to me in parables. You may have known that I'm no wordy man, Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves Or fools that use them, when they want good sense; But honesty Needs no disguise nor ornament: be plain.
No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it; it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal.
Oh woman! lovely woman! nature made thee To temper man; we had been brutes without you; Angels are painted fair to look like you; There's in you all that we believe of heaven, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
What mighty ills have not been done by woman! Who was't betray'd the Capitol? A woman; Who lost Mark Antony the world? A woman; Who was the cause of a long ten years' war, And laid at last old Troy is ashes? Woman; Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman!
Honest men are the soft easy cushions on which knaves repose and fatten.
Ambition is a lust that is never quenched, but grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment.