We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
read more

We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without books;
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.
He may live without books,--what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope,--what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love,--what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining?

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of
corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold read more

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of
corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold more than mine.
[Lat., Millia frumenti tua triverit area centum.
Non tuus hinc capiet venter plus ac meus.]

He asked water, and she gave him milk; she brought forth butter
in a lordly dish.

He asked water, and she gave him milk; she brought forth butter
in a lordly dish.

Man is a carnivorous production,
And must have meals, at least one meal a day;
He cannot read more

Man is a carnivorous production,
And must have meals, at least one meal a day;
He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction,
But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey;
Although his anatomical construction
Bears vegetables, in a grumbling way,
Your laboring people think beyond all question,
Beef, veal, and mutton better for digestion.

Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbradings;
Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
Thereof the raging read more

Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbradings;
Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred.

Think of the man who first tried German sausage.

Think of the man who first tried German sausage.

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your read more

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your shell-fish to yourself. I have no
wish to waste my appetite.

That famish'd people must be slowly nurst,
And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.

That famish'd people must be slowly nurst,
And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.