John Wilmot quotes:

Farewell, woman! I intend Henceforth every night to sit With my lewd, well-natured friend, Drinking to engender wit.

All monarchs I hate, and the thrones they sit on, From the hector of France to the cully of Britain.

Before I married, I had three theories about raising children and no children. Now, I have three children and no theories.

Most Men are Cowards, all Men should be Knaves. The Difference lies, as far as I can see, Not in the thing it self, but the Degree.

Thus, statesmanlike, I'll saucily impose, And safe from action, valiantly advise; Sheltered in impotence, urge you to blows, And being good for nothing else, be wise.

Whenever you preach, be sure that you lift the Saviour high and lay the sinner low.

I shall never forgive you for teaching me how to love life.

God bless our good and gracious King,Whose promise none relies on;Who never said a foolish thing,Nor ever did a wise one.

For Hell and the foul fiend that rulesGod's everlasting fiery jails(Devised by rogues, dreaded by fools),With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door,Are senseless stories, idle tales,Dreams, whimseys, and no more.

Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children, and no theories.

Books bear him up a while, and make him try to swim with bladders of philosophy.

any experiment of interest in life will be carried out at your own expense

The theatre is my drug. And my illness is so far advanced that my physic must be of the highest quality.

I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear, or anything but that vain animal who is so proud of being rational.

Born to myself, I like myself alone.

Tis a meaner part of sense to find a fault than taste an excellence.

Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories.

A kind of losing loadum is their game,Where the worst writer has the greatest fame.

I have to speak my mind. Because what is in my mind is always more interesting than what is happening in the world outside my mind.

Now piercèd is her virgin zone; She feels the foe within it. She hears a broken amorous groan, The panting lover's fainting moan, Just in the happy minute.

It is a very good world to live in, To lend or to spend, or to live in; but to beg or to borrow, or to get a man's own, It is the very worst world that ever was known.

I wish to be moved. I cannot feel in life. I must have others do it for me in theater.

Man differs more from man than man from beast

All men would be cowards if they could.

He never said a foolish thing nor never did a wise one.

Angels listen when she speaks; She's my delight, all mankind's wonder; But my jealous heart would break Should we live one day asunder.

Love, the most generous passion of the mind The softest refuge innocence can find

Love's chemistry thrives best in equal heat.

Mothers who force their daughters into interested marriage, are worse than the Ammonites who sacrificed their children to Moloch--the latter undergoing a speedy death, the former suffering years of torture, but too frequently leading to the same result.

If you have a grateful heart (which is a miracle amongst you statesmen), show it by directing the bearer to the best wine in town, and pray let not this highest point of sacred friendship be performed slightly, but go about it with all due deliberation and care, as holy priests to sacrifice, or as discreet thieves to the wary performance of burglary and shop-lifting. Let your well-discerning palate (the best judge about you) travel from cellar to cellar and then from piece to piece till it has lighted on wine fit for its noble choice and my approbation.

Dead we become the lumber of the world.

'Tis dangerous to think - For who by thinking tempts his jealous Fate, Is straight arraign'd as Traytor to the State, And none that come within the Verge of Sense, Have to Preferment now the least Pretence. . . .

Late children are early orphans.

Since 'tis Nature's law to change, Constancy alone is strange.

Nothing suits worse with vice than want of sense

Envy is a passion so full of cowardice and shame that nobody ever had the confidence to own it.

Custom does often reason overrule.

Natural freedoms are but just: There's something generous in mere lust.

The clog of all pleasure, the luggage of life, is the best can be said for a very good wife.

To pick out the wildest and most fantastical odd man alive, and to place your kindness there, is an act so brave and daring as will show the greatness of your spirit and distinguish you in love, as you are in all things else, from womankind.

For all Men would be Cowards if they durst: And Honesty's against all common Sense.