A flirt is like a dipper attached to a hydrant; every one is at liberty to drink from it, but no one desires to carry it away.
Coquetry is the champagne of love.
Coquetry is the art of successful deception.
It rarely happens otherwise than that a thorough-faced coquette dies in celibacy, as a punishment for her attempts to mislead others, by encouraging looks, words, or actions, given for no other purpose than to draw men on to make overtures that they may be rejected.
The greatest miracle of love is the cure of coquetry.
Beautiful coquettes are quacks of love.
A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms not person than graces of mind, more admirers than friends, mole fools than wise men for attendants.
He who wins a thousand common hearts is entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero.
The characteristic of coquettes is affectation governed by whim.
All women seem by nature to be coquettes.
New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.
The ladies--Heaven bless them!--are, as a general rule, coquettes from babyhood upwards.
A modern writer likens coquettes to those hunters who do not eat the game which they have successfully pursued.
The coquette has companions, indeed, but no lovers,--for love is respectful and timorous; and where among her followers will she find a husband?
She who only finds her self-esteem In others' admiration, begs an alms; Depends on others for her daily food, And is the very servant of her slaves; Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour, O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert, Which not ennobles but degrades her state.
Popularity, I have always thought, may aptly be compared to a coquette - the more you woo her, the more apt is she to elude your embrace.
dont undress my love you might find a mannequin dont undress the mannequin you might find love. shes long ago forgotten me. hes trying on a new hat and looks more the coquette then ever. she is a child and a mannequin and death. i can't hate that. she didnt do anything unusual. I only wanted her to.
Coquettes know how to please, not love, and that is why men love them SO much.
A coquette is like a recruiting sergeant, always on the lookout for fresh victims.
Popular glory is a perfect coquette; her lovers must toil, feel every inquietude, indulge every caprice, and perhaps at last be jilted into the bargain. True glory, on the other hand, resembles a woman of sense; her admirers must play no tricks. They feel no great anxiety, for they are sure in the end of being rewarded in proportion to their merit.
An accomplished coquette excites the passions of others, in proportion as she feels none herself.
Women know not the whole of their coquetry.
Life is not long enough for a coquette to play all her tricks in.
For a woman to be at once a coquette and a bigot is more than the humblest of husbands can bear; she should mercifully choose between the two.
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No," And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow, Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.
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