William Shakespeare

And men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

And men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or read more

O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter.

On Tuesday last
A falcon, now tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl read more

On Tuesday last
A falcon, now tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed.

(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it read more

(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the
windy side of care.

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there read more

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.