Greatness, thou gaudy torment of out souls, The wise man’s fetter, and the rage of fools. — Thomas Otway
Revenge, the attribute of Gods! They stamped it with their great image on our natures. — Thomas Otway
Base natures ever judge a thing above them, and hate a power they are too much obliged to. — Thomas Otway
Who can describe Women’s hypocrisies! their subtle wiles, Betraying smiles, feign’d tears, — Thomas Otway
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee To temper man: we had been brutes without you. — Thomas Otway
Ambition is a lust that is never quenched, but grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment. — Thomas Otway
Clocks will go as they are set, but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain. — Thomas Otway
Shining through tears, like april suns in showers, that labour to overcome the cloud that loads ‘em. — Thomas Otway
