|
| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| Page 55 |
| William Shakespeare. (1564–1616) (continued) |
| 559 |
| Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 2. |
| 560 |
| A man of sovereign parts he is esteem’d; Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 561 |
| A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour’s talk withal. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 562 |
| Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 563 |
| By my penny of observation. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 564 |
| The boy hath sold him a bargain,—a goose. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 565 |
| To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 566 |
| A very beadle to a humorous sigh. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 567 |
| This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 568 |
| A buck of the first head. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 569 |
| He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 570 |
| Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 571 |
| You two are book-men. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 572 |
| Dictynna, goodman Dull. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 573 |
| These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 574 |
| For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
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