Samuel Richardson

Samuel
Richardson
1689
1761

English Writer, Printer and Novelist

Author Quotes

To tease by ceaseless repetition; like the unvaried continued action of a bore.

Wicked words are the prelude to wicked deeds.

Twelve, one, two, three, four?any hour, I care not?if you mean me honourably, let me go out of this hated house!

Will is not yet come back. Near eleven.

Twenty-four is a prudent age for women to marry at.

Will is this moment returned. No coach to be got either for love or money.

Vice turns beauty into deformity.

With two ?Hoh?Madams,? she accosted the frighted fair one; who, terrified, caught hold of my sleeve.

Virtue only is the true beauty.

Women are sometimes drawn in to believe against probability by the unwillingness they have to doubt their own merit.

We all know by theory that there is no permanent happiness in this life: But the weight of the precept is not felt in the same manner as when it is confirmed to us by a heavy calamity.

Women love those best (whether men, women, or children) who give them most pain.

We are all of us very ready to be persuaded on the side of inclination.

Women's eyes are wanderers, and too often bring home guests that are very troublesome to them, and whom, once introduced, they cannot get out of the house.

We can all be good when we have no temptation or provocation to the contrary.

Yet do I find that one may be driven by violent measures step by step, as it were, into something that may be called?I don?t know what to call it?a conditional kind of liking, or so.

What honest man would not rather be the sufferer than the defrauder?

What pity that Religion and Love, which heighten our relish for the things of both worlds, should ever run the human heart into enthusiasm, superstition, or uncharitableness!

What the unpenetrating world call Humanity, is often no more than a weak mind pitying itself.

What we look upon as our greatest unhappiness in a difficulty we are involved in, may possibly be the evil hastening to its crisis, and happy days may ensue.

What! not if your father or your mother command it?Girl! said she, intending another word, by her pause and manner before it came out.

When conscience acquits, who shall condemn?

Who ever was in fault, Self being judge?

Whom we fear more than love, we are not far from hating.

O Spirit! said she, tapping my neck a little too hard. And is it come to this at last!

Author Picture
First Name
Samuel
Last Name
Richardson
Birth Date
1689
Death Date
1761
Bio

English Writer, Printer and Novelist