William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite,
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honor
read more
Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite,
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honor
Evan till a Lethe'd dulness--
I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but
I'll take my oath on read more
I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but
I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he
shall never make me such a fool.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy
tidings.
I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy
tidings.
This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers.
Away; go. They say there is read more
This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers.
Away; go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in
nativity, chance, or death.
E'en a crow o' th' same nest; not altogether so great as the
first in goodness, but greater a read more
E'en a crow o' th' same nest; not altogether so great as the
first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels
his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the
best that is. In a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in
coming on he has the cramp.
I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and read more
I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing. O, Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's wagon; daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength--a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one.
