John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester Quotes

See the kind seed-receiving earth To every grain affords a birth: On her no showers unwelcome fall, Her willing womb retains 'em all, And shall my Caelia be confined? No, live up to thy mighty mind, And be the mistress of Mankind!

Great Negative, how vainly would the Wise Enquire, define, distinguish, teach, devise, Didst thou not stand to point their dull Philosophies?<p>Is, or is not, the Two great Ends of Fate, And, true or false, the Subject of Debate, That perfect, or destroy, the vast Designs of Fate.

Dead we become the lumber of the world.

Then talk not of Inconstancy, False Hearts, and broken Vows; If I, by Miracle, can be This live-long Minute true to thee, 'Tis all that Heav'n allows.

The Elephant is never won with Anger, Nor must that man, who would reclaim a Lion, Take him by the teeth.

Were I, who to my Cost already am One of those strange, prodigious Creatures Man, A Spirit free, to choose for my own Share, What sort of Flesh and Blood I pleas'd to wear, I'd be a Dog, a Monkey, or a Bear, Or any thing, but that vain Animal, Who is so proud of being Rational.

When my young master's worship comes to town, From pedagogue and mother just fit free, The heir and hopes of a great famiiy; Who with strong beer and beef the country rules, And ever since the Conquest have been fools; And now, with careful prospect to maintain This character, lest crossing of the strain Should mend the booby breed, his friends provide A cousin of his own to be his bride...

But oh, how slowly minutes roll When absent from her eyes, That feed my love, which is my soul: It languishes and dies.

Thus, Statesman-like, I'll saucily impose, And, safe from Danger, valiantly advise; Sheltered in Impotence, urge you to Blows, And, being good for nothing else, be Wise.

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

We have a pretty witty king, Whose word no man relies on; He never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one.

On thy wither'd lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie, Brooding kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore. (Such kind showers in autumn fall, And a second spring recall); Nor from thee will ever part, Ancient Person of my Heart.

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

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.

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