Quote by William Congreve (1670-1729)

• Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
  Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

• Music has charms to soothe the savage breast
  To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

• Heav'n hath no rage like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd.

• Defer not till tomorrow to be wise, tomorrow's sun to thee may never rise.

• I came upstairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar.

• All ambitions are lawful except those which climb upward on the miseries or credulities of mankind.