John Gay Quotes

Brother, brother! we are both in the wrong.

The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.

Fill ev'ry glass, for wine inspires us, And fires us With courage, love and joy. Women and wine should life employ. Is there ought else on earth desirous?

Macheath: And I would love you all the day, Polly: Every night would kiss and play, Macheath: If with me you’d fondly stray Polly: Over the hills and far away.

Were I laid on Greenland’s Coast, And in my Arms embrac’d my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year’s Night would pass.

O Polly, you might have toyed and kissed, By keeping men off, you keep them on.

Can you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in gaming, drinking and whoring? Have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about who shall squander most? There are not many husbands and wives, who can bear the charges of plaguing one another in a handsome way.

Do you think your Mother and I should have liv'd comfortably so long together, if ever we had been married?

How the mother is to be pitied who hath handsome daughters! Locks, bolts, bars, and lectures of morality are nothing to them: they break through them all. They have as much pleasure in cheating a father and mother, as in cheating at cards.

You know, my Dear, I never meddle in matters of Death; I always leave those Affairs to you. Women indeed are bitter bad Judges in these cases, for they are so partial to the Brave that they think every Man handsome who is going to the Camp or the Gallows.

Over the hills and far away.

'T is woman that seduces all mankind; By her we first were taught the wheedling arts.

Through all the Employments of Life Each Neighbour abuses his Brother;
Whore and Rogue they call Husband and Wife:
All Professions be-rogue one another:
The Priest calls the Lawyer a Cheat,
The Lawyer be-knaves the Divine:
And the Statesman, because he's so great, Thinks his Trade as honest as mine.

As we live by the Muses, it is but a Gratitude in us to encourage Poetical Merit wherever we find it. The Muses, contrary to all other Ladies, pay no Distinction to Dress, and never partially mistake the Pertness of Embroidery for Wit, nor the Modesty of Want for Dulness. Be the Author who he will, we push his Play as far as it will go. So (though you are in Want) I wish you success heartily.

If Poverty be a Title to Poetry, I am sure nobody can dispute mine. I own myself of the Company of Beggars; and I make one at their Weekly Festivals at St. Giles's. I have a small Yearly Salary for my Catches, and am welcome to a Dinner there whenever I please, which is more than most Poets can say.