Reference > Quotations > John Bartlett, comp. > Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. > Page 55
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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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