A Quote by Terence

She ne'er was really charming till she died. — © Terence
She ne'er was really charming till she died.

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She who ne'er answers till a husband cools, Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules; Charms by accepting, by submitting, sways, Yet has her humor most, when she obeys.
She never was really charming till she died.
Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear, Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chattered all the way. But left me none the wiser For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne'er a word said she; But oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me!
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces
Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not to-day; Still forward press, nor never tire! The possible, with steadfast trust, Resolve should be by the forelock grasp. Then she will ne'er let go her clasp, And labors on, because she must.
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.
Alas! the praise given to the ear Ne'er was nor ne'er can be sincere.
Paula Abdul's really impatient to start a family. She says if she has to wait much longer she's going to go crazy-er.
I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip.
My mom got pregnant when she was 15. She dropped out of high school. She died in her forties, but before she died, she went back and finished high school.
A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne'er consent”—consented.
Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.
Just before she died she asked, What is the answer? No answer came. She laughed and said, In that case, what is the question? Then she died.
We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.
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