Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. – William Congreve
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty. – William Congreve
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. – William Congreve
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty. – William Congreve
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study. – William Congreve
Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. – William Congreve
Something that irritates you and wont let you go. Thats the anguish of it. Do this book, or die. You have to go through that. Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. Beyond talent lie all the usual words: discipline, love, luck, but, most of all, endurance. – Source Unknown