Laconics: or, The best words of the best authors (Google eBook)

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H.G. Bohn, 1856 - Reference
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Page 340 - A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.
Page 291 - O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
Page 102 - Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care : Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame. Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Page 196 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeit of our own behaviour, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to...
Page 220 - Be absolute for death ; either death, or life, Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with Life : If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep...
Page 213 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended ; and, I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.
Page 329 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's, 4 make use 1 ie make interest. Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Page 256 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them ; and, when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Page 188 - Cade. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment ? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man ? Some say, the bee stings ; but I say, 'tis the bee's wax, for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.
Page 220 - Thou art not thyself, For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not still thou striv'st to get, And what thou hast forget'st. Thou art not certain ; For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the moon. If thou art rich, thou art poor ; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee.

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