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O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!
O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
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Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings.
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return,--Get very drunk; and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
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I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.
I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should read more
I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with
joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into
beasts!
(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.
(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.
He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with read more
He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the read more
In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest.