105 ordspråk av William Congreve
William Congreve
William Congreve föddes den 10 februar 1670 och dog den 19 januar 1729 - engelsk dramatiker.
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 Heaven Hath no rage like a love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned |
| For 'tis some virtue, virtue to commend. |
| Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit That impudence and malice pass for wit. |
| Thou art a Retailer of Phrases, and dost deal in Remnants of Remnants. |
| Music has charms to soothe the savage beast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. |
| Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. |
| Would she could make of me a saint, Or I of her a sinner. |
| O, she is the antidote to desire. |
| Nature, to each allots his proper Sphere, But, that forsaken, we like Comets err: Toss'd thro' the Void, by some rude Shock we're broke, And all our boasted Fire is lost in Smoke |
| She is chaste who was never asked the question |
| I know that's a secret, for it's whispered everywhere |
| In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me |
| There is in true beauty something which vulgar cannot admire |
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William Congreve ordtak
William Congreve ordspråk
William Congreve proverb
varav 1490770 på nordiska
Ordsprog (1469561 st) Søg
Kategorier (2627 st) Søg
Kilder (167535 st) Søg
Billeder (4592 st)
Født (10495 st)
Døde (3318 st)
Datoer (9517 st)
Lande (5315 st)
Idiom (4439 st)
Lengde
Topplistor (6 st)
Ordspråksmusik (20 st)
Statistik
William Congreve ordtak William Congreve ordspråk William Congreve proverb