William Congreve

There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased,
They scarcely come inclining to be pleased:
And sure read more

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.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough
to be a wit.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough
to be a wit.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.

Men are apt to offend ('tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.

Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she's the moon, and thou
art the man in the moon.

Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she's the moon, and thou
art the man in the moon.