Ambition is a lust that is never quenched, but grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment.— Thomas Otway
The most romantic Thomas Otway quotes you will be delighted to read
If we must part for ever, Give me but one kind word to think upon, And please myself withal, whilst my heart's breaking!
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labor to overcome the cloud that loads em.
False as the adulterate promises of favorites in power when poor men court them.
Oh woman! lovely woman! nature made thee To temper man;
we had been brutes without you; Angels are painted fair to look like you; There's in you all that we believe of heaven, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end.
Honest men are the soft easy cushions on which knaves repose and fatten.
What mighty ills have not been done by woman! Who was't betray'd the Capitol? A woman; Who lost Mark Antony the world? A woman; Who was the cause of a long ten years' war, And laid at last old Troy is ashes? Woman; Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman!
How many men Have spent their blood in their dear country's service, Yet now pine under want; while selfish slaves, That even would cut their throats whom now they fawn on, Like deadly locusts, eat the honey up, Which those industrious bees so hardly toil'd for.
Clocks will go as they are set, but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain.
Cowards are scared with threatenings;
boys are whipped into confession; but a steady mind acts of itself, ne'er asks the body counsel.
Honesty was a cheat invented first To bind the hands of bold deserving rogues, That fools and cowards might sit safe in power, And lord it uncontroll'd above their betters.
Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together.
Avoid the politic, the factious fool, The busy, buzzing, talking harden'd knave;
The quaint smooth rogue that sins against his reason, Calls saucy loud sedition public zeal, And mutiny the dictates of his spirit.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
Revenge, the attribute of gods! They stamped it with their great image on our natures.
Home I would go But that my doors are hateful to my eyes, Fill'd and damm'd up with gaping creditors, Watchful as fowlers when their game will spring.
Justice is lame as well as blind, amongst us.
Who can describe Women's hypocrisies! their subtle wiles, Betraying smiles, feign'd tears, inconstancies! Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds, The sum of all their follies, and their falsehoods.
Base natures ever judge a thing above them, and hate a power they are too much obliged to.
Dame Fortune, like most others of the female sex, is generally most indulgent to the nimble-mettled blockheads.
No praying, it spoils business.
Who's a prince or beggar in the grave?
You talk to me in parables. You may have known that I'm no wordy man, Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves Or fools that use them, when they want good sense; But honesty Needs no disguise nor ornament: be plain.
Children blessings seem, but torments are.
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labour to overcome the cloud that loads 'em.
No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it;
it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal.
I may boldly speak In right, though proud oppression will not hear me!
And for an apple damn'd mankind.
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he Was born most noble that was born most free; Each of himself was lord; and unconfin'd Obey'd the dictates of his godlike mind.
There is such sweet pain in parting that I could hang forever on thine arms, and look away my life into thine eyes.
Greatness, thou gaudy torment of out souls, The wise man's fetter, and the rage of fools.
The poor sleep little.
Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart.
If love be treasure, we'll be wondrous rich.
The worst thing an old man can be is a lover.
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee To temper man: we had been brutes without you.