ritual, period in a couple's relationship which precedes their engagement and marriage From Wikiquote, the free quote compendium
Courtship is the period in a couple's relationship which precedes their engagement and marriage, or establishment of an agreed relationship of a more enduring kind. In courtship, a couple get to know each other and decide if there will be an engagement or other such agreement. A courtship may be an informal and private matter between two people or may be a public affair, or a formal arrangement with family approval. Traditionally, in the case of a formal engagement, it has been perceived that it is the role of a male to actively "court" or "woo" a female, thus encouraging her to understand him and her receptiveness to a proposal of marriage. Within many western societies, these distinct gender roles have lost some of their importance and rigidity.
Let him who wooes be full of chat, And full of flattery and all that, And carry presents in his hat: Skill may supplant the worthier man.
Pickup is a lie. Money is a lie. Fame is a lie. Having sex with hot models is a fucking lie. Pickup is a fucking scam product if you treat it as the one thing to make you happy, as the one thing to finally make yourself acceptable, as the one thing to finally feel like you are a good man. An attractive man. That's a fucking lie? Okay. It's not a thing that brings you happiness if you don't learn how to value happiness in where it actually is.
Max Berger, Pickup is a Scam Product (The Real Way to Get Results in Your Happiness) (2018)
He that will win his dame must do As love does when he draws his bow; With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home.
Samuel Butler, Hudibras, Part II (1664), Canto I, line 449.
She that with poetry is won, Is but a desk to write upon; And what men say of her they mean No more than on the thing they lean.
Samuel Butler, Hudibras, Part II (1664), Canto I, line 591.
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes; But not too humbly, or she will despise Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes: Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise.
'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most; When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen. 'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin (Friends of the party) who begin accusais, Such as—"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray, Look yes last night, and yet say No to-day?"
"Chops and Tomata Sauce. Yours, Pickwick." Chops! Gracious heavens! and Tomata Sauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these?
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never.
William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing (1598-99), Act II, scene 3, line 64. Not in original folio. See also Thomas Percy—The Friar of Orders Gray. ("Weep no more, Ladies").
I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.
She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story And that would woo her.
O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world.
Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing: That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this: Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.
Never give her o'er; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you, But rather to beget more love in you; If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone, For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
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. That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Say that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart: Write till your ink be dry and with your tears Moist it again, and frame some feeling line, That may discover such integrity.
Alas! to seize the moment When heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man come not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage, They cannot seek his hand.
Woo the fair one when around Early birds are singing; When o'er all the fragrant ground Early herbs are springing: When the brookside, bank, and grove All with blossom laden, Shine with beauty, breathe of love, Woo the timid maiden.
Duncan Gray cam here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o't! On blithe Yulenight when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o't! Maggie coost her head fu' high, Looked asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh: Ha, ha! the wooing o't!
How often in the summer-tide, His graver business set aside, Has stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed As to the pipe of Pan, Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride Across the fields to Anne.
Richard Burton, Across the Fields to Anne (referring to Shakespeare).
'Tis enough— Who listens once will listen twice; Her heart be sure is not of ice, And one refusal no rebuff.
Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.
So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love, And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution Told his soft Tale, and was a thriving Wooer.
Colley Cibber, Richard III (Altered) (1700), Act II, scene 1.
Faint heart hath been a common phrase, faire ladie never wives.
J. P. Collier's Reprint of The Rocke of Regard (1576), p. 122.
And when with envy Time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.
Gilbert Cooper, according to John Aikin, in Collection of English Songs. Winifreda. Claimed for him by Walter Thornbury—Two Centuries of Song. (1810). Bishop Percy assigns it a place in his Reliques. I. 326, (Ed. 1777), but its ancient origin is a fiction. Poem appeared in Dodsley's Magazine and in Miscellaneous Poems by Several hands. (1726).
Ah, Foole! faint heart faire lady n'ere could win.
Phineas Fletcher, Brittain's Ida, Canto V, Stanza 1. William Ellerton—George a-Greene. Ballad written about 1569. A Proper New Ballad in Praise of My Lady Marques. (1569). Reprint Philobiblian So. 1867, p. 22. Early use in Camden's Remaines. (Ed. 1814). Originally published with Spenser's name on the title page.
Perhaps if you address the lady Most politely, most politely, Flatter and impress the lady Most politely, most politely. Humbly beg and humbly sue, She may deign to look on you.
If doughty deeds my lady please, Right soon I'll mount my steed, And strong his arm and fast his seat, That bears me from the meed. Then tell me how to woo thee, love, Oh, tell me how to woo thee For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take Though ne'er another trow me.
The surest way to hit a woman's heart is to take aim kneeling.
Douglas Jerrold, Douglas Jerrold's Wit, The Way to a Woman's Heart.
Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men?
Ben Jonson, The Forest, Song, That Women are but Men's Shadows.
There be triple ways to take, of the eagle or the snake, Or the way of a man with a maid.
Rudyard Kipling, The Long Trail, L'Envoi to Departmental Duties.
A fool there was and he made his prayer (Even as you and I!) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair (We called her the woman who did not care) But the fool he called her his lady fair— (Even as you and I!)
The nightingales among the sheltering boughs Of populous many-nested trees Shall teach me how to woo thee, and shall tell me By what resistless charms or incantations They won their mates.
Samuel Lover, Vourneen! when your days were bright.
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity-Zekle.
James Russell Lowell, Introduction to The Biglow Papers, Second Series, The Courtin', Stanza 15.
Whaur hae ye been a' day, My boy Tammy? I've been by burn and flowery brae, Meadow green and mountain grey, Courting of this young thing Just come frae her mammy.
He kissed her cold corpse a thousand times o'er, And called her his jewel though she was no more: And he drank all the pison like a lovyer so brave, And Villikins and Dinah lie buried in one grave.
Henry Mayhew condensed and interpolated the modern version in his Wandering Minstrel. The words of an old song given to him by the actor, Mitchell, who sang it in 1831. The ballad is older than the age of Queen Elizabeth, according to G. A. Sala—Autobiography.
And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
'Tis sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we're far from the lips we love, We've but to make love to the lips we are near.
Happy Mary Anerly, looking O so fair, There's a ring upon your hand, and there's myrtle in your hair. Somebody is with you now: Somebody I see, Looks into your trusting face very tenderly.
I sat with Doris, the Shepherd maiden; Her crook was laden with wreathèd flowers; I sat and wooed her through sunlight wheeling, And shadows stealing for hours and hours.
The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.
Proverbs, XXX. 19.
But in vain did she conjure him To depart her presence so, Having a thousand tongues t'allure him, And but one to bid him go.
Sir Walter Raleigh, Dulcina. Attributed to Brydges, who edited Raleigh's poems.
It was a happy age when a man might have wooed his wench with a pair of kid leather gloves, a silver thimble, or with a tawdry lace; but now a velvet gown, a chain of pearl, or a coach with four horses will scarcely serve the turn.
A pressing lover seldom wants success, Whilst the respectful, like the Greek, sits down And wastes a ten years' siege before one town.
Nicholas Rowe, To the Inconstant. Epilogue, line 18.
Bring therefore all the forces that ye may, And lay incessant battery to her heart; Playnts, prayers, vowes, truth, sorrow, and dismay; Those engins can the proudest love convert: And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her; So dying live, and living do adore her.
Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
The first and most important step in winning sounds so obvious you think everybody does it, but in fact more people mess up than anything else and here is what it is: you have to decide to win. Now that sounds obvious, who wouldn't decide to win, but the thing is, it is not just "Oh I want to win!" it is "Oh I would like to win and I prioritize winning above and beyond everything else". If you haven't made that step you are not ready to win. Winning sounds great on paper, but there are a lot of consequences to winning. There is a lot that comes with winning that you need to be prepared for. If you are not ready to win, if you have not decided to win you probably won't. Let me tell you a few personal stories of my own: When I was very young as a soccer player I was a very good player. I was very talented; I did a lot of good things with the ball. But I didn't score a lot of goals. I wasn't a goal scoring player and I talked to a friend of mine who was a coach: And he said "Well, have you practiced your goal scoring celebration? Have you practiced what you do when you score?" I Said "No why does that matter?" "You are not prepared to score, you are not even ready to succeed!"
Todd Valentine, Winnergame: Decide To Win (2017)
When Venus said "Spell no for me," "N-O," Dan Cupid wrote with glee, And smiled at his success: "Ah, child," said Venus, laughing low, "We women do not spell it so, We spell it Y-E-S."0'0