John Wilmot Quotes

Born to myself, I like myself alone.

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.

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

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

I hate the thing is called enjoyment:
Besides it is a dull employment,
It cuts off all that's life and fire
From that which may be termed desire;
Just like the bee whose sting is gone
Converts the owner to a drone.

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.

Bawdy in thoughts, precise in words,
Ill-natured though a whore,
Her belly is a bag of turds,
And her cunt a common shore.

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

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.

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

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

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.

Then, if to make your ruin more,
You'll peevishly be coy,
Die with the scandal of a whore
And never know the joy.

Cupid and Bacchus my saints are,
May drink and love still reign,
With wine I wash away my cares,
And then to cunt again.

Merely for safety, after fame we thirst,
For all men would be cowards if they durst.

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

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.

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.

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

Custom does often reason overrule.

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.

This signior is sound, safe, ready, and dumb
As ever was candle, carrot, or thumb;
Then away with these nasty devices, and show
How you rate the just merits of Signior Dildo.

After Death nothing is, and nothing, death,
The utmost limit of a gasp of breath.
Let the ambitious zealot lay aside
His hopes of heaven, whose faith is but his pride;
Let slavish souls lay by their fear
Nor be concerned which way nor where
After this life they shall be hurled.
Dead, we become the lumber of the world,
And to that mass of matter shall be swept
Where things destroyed with things unborn are kept.
Devouring time swallows us whole.
Impartial death confounds body and soul.
For Hell and the foul fiend that rules
God'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.

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