all cats are grey in the dark

‘When all candles be out all catts be gray:’ This none but careless leachers will say.

There's as good Bread bak'd here as in France, and Joan’s as good as my Lady in the Dark. In the Night all Cats are grey. Unhappy's he that wants his Breakfaſt at Two in the Afternoon... Sancho’s proverbial aphoriſms, and the ſimple Waiting-Woman's Comment upon the Text, were no ſmall Diverſion to the Dutcheſs.

The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding only what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement.

... at laft [King Croquignolet] gained intelligence of a famous wizard in the land of Gotham, a very prodigy of ſcience, to whom the world is indebted for old Robin's Almanack, the Court Calendar, the Attorney's Vade-Mecum, the Lady's Diary, and the Gentleman's Magazine... He firſt made known to mankind that after a ſtorm comes a calm; that it is day when the ſun is riſen; that dead men tell no tales; that ſhops ſhut are a ſure ſign of Sunday; that all cats are grey in the dark; that as ſoon as the ſun is ſet, there are many beaſts in the ſhade.

However—the Frenchman's a practical man... He's trained to spot the redeeming graces as adroitly as a highly bred pig sniffs truffles. And faced with the homeliest dame he'll work over her until he can say, "Yes—she's certainly homely, but she has 'delightful ears'"; or "and exciting back to her neck"; or "provocative biceps." And the worst he cares to admit about any woman is "Yes, she is very ugly, but she has 'something' (Elle a quelque chose)." And if you get him in a cynical but wholesome mood he'll indicate that after all, "All cats are grey at night!"

In one poem, unjustly attributed to Voltaire, the regent was accused of conducting an affaire with his eldest daughter, the Duchesse de Berry, which seems to have been true. The libertine regent loved women, but none more than his remarkable mother Liselotte, and it was to her that he uttered the famous rebuke when she complained he chose such ugly mistresses: "Bah! Mama, all cats look gray in the dark!"