William Congreve

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.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

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

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

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 find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of
being dull.

I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of
being dull.