William Congreve (1670–1729) was an English playwright and poet whose works epitomized the wit and satire of Restoration comedy. He shaped the English comedy of manners through his sharp comic dialogue, satirical characterization of the war of the sexes, and ironic scrutiny of the affectations of his age.
Born in Bardsey, near Leeds, Yorkshire, Congreve was educated in Ireland at Kilkenny School and Trinity College-Dublin, a fellow student of Jonathan Swift. In London, he entered the Middle Temple to study law but never practiced.
Congreve’s major plays were The Old Bachelour (1693,) The Double-Dealer (1693,) Love for Love (1695,) and The Way of the World (1700.) His characters are people of nobility and fashion, for whom manners are more important than morals.
Congreve’s only tragedy is The Mourning Bride (1697.) His final play, The Way of the World (1700,) was unsuccessful. He wrote little more for the stage, apart from the words of a masque of The Judgment of Paris, set to music by the composer John Eccles (1650–1735) in 1701.
University of California’s Maximillian E. Novak wrote the biography William Congreve (1971.) English poet and author Edmund Gosse wrote the critical work Life of William Congreve (1888.)
More: Wikipedia • READ: Works by William Congreve
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing, through the overtaking and possessing of a wish discovers the folly of the chase.
—William Congreve
Topics: Joy, Excitement, Expectations, Expectation, Uncertainty
Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.
—William Congreve
Topics: Inspirational, Inspiration
No mask like open truth to cover lies,
As to go naked is the best disguise.
—William Congreve
Topics: Honesty
There is in true beauty, as in courage, somewhat which narrow souls cannot dare to admire.
—William Congreve
Topics: Beauty
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.
—William Congreve
Topics: Criticism, Critics
O ay, letters – I had letters – I am persecuted with letters – I hate letters – nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has ’em, one does not know why – they serve one to pin up one’s hair.
—William Congreve
Topics: Letters
He who closes his ears to the views of others shows little confidence in the integrity of his own views.
—William Congreve
Topics: Confidence
Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing.
—William Congreve
Topics: Uncertainty, Safety, Expectation, Risk-taking, Doubt, Security
You read of but one wise man, and all that he knew was—that he knew nothing.
—William Congreve
Topics: Wisdom
A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.
—William Congreve
Topics: Sincerity
I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.
—William Congreve
Topics: Secrets
Guilt is ever at a loss, and confusion waits upon it.
—William Congreve
Topics: Guilt
Courtship to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
—William Congreve
Topics: Marriage
Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t’other.
—William Congreve
Topics: Pleasure
Mr Witwould: “Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies”.
Mrs Millamant: “Only with those in verse…. I never pin up my hair with prose”.
—William Congreve
Topics: Letters
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
—William Congreve
Topics: Grief, Marriage
I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.
—William Congreve
Topics: Conversation
Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
—William Congreve
Topics: Blessings, Results, Deeds
A wit should be no more sincere than a woman constant.
—William Congreve
Topics: Wit, One liners
Read, read, search, and refine your appetite; learn to live upon instruction; feast your mind and mortify your flesh.—Read and take your nourishment in all your eyes; shut up your mouth, and chew the cud of understanding.
—William Congreve
Topics: Reading
Men are apt to offend (’tis true) where they find most goodness to forgive.
—William Congreve
Topics: Insults
Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
—William Congreve
Topics: Charm, Music
O, she is the antidote to desire.
—William Congreve
Topics: Insults
They come together like the Coroner’s Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.
—William Congreve
Topics: Gossip
‘Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.
—William Congreve
Topics: Colleges, Universities, Education
If there’s delight in love, ‘Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.
—William Congreve
Topics: Love
I know a lady that loves talking so incessantly, she won’t give an echo fair play; she has that everlasting rotation of tongue that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words!
—William Congreve
Topics: Talking
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