Laconics, Or, The Best Words of the Best Authors: In Three Volumes, Том 2H.G. Bohn, York Street, Covent Garden, 1856 |
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Стр. 29
... pains are done , Has nothing he can call his own , But a mere livelihood alone . Butler . CIX . There are a set of dry , joyless , dull fellows , who want capacities and talents to make a figure amongst mankind upon benevolent and ...
... pains are done , Has nothing he can call his own , But a mere livelihood alone . Butler . CIX . There are a set of dry , joyless , dull fellows , who want capacities and talents to make a figure amongst mankind upon benevolent and ...
Стр. 31
... pain . So then he hath it , when he cannot use it , And leaves it to be master'd by his young , Who in their pride do presently abuse it : Their father was too weak , and they too strong , To hold their cursed blessed fortune long . The ...
... pain . So then he hath it , when he cannot use it , And leaves it to be master'd by his young , Who in their pride do presently abuse it : Their father was too weak , and they too strong , To hold their cursed blessed fortune long . The ...
Стр. 35
... pains in considering this prevailing quality , which we call impudence , and have taken notice that it exerts itself in a different manner , according to the different soils wherein such subjects of these dominions as are masters of it ...
... pains in considering this prevailing quality , which we call impudence , and have taken notice that it exerts itself in a different manner , according to the different soils wherein such subjects of these dominions as are masters of it ...
Стр. 40
... pains are real things , and all Our pleasures but fantastical ; Diseases of their own accord But cures come difficult and hard . Our noblest piles , and stateliest rooms , Are but out - houses to our tombs ; Cities , tho ' e'er so great ...
... pains are real things , and all Our pleasures but fantastical ; Diseases of their own accord But cures come difficult and hard . Our noblest piles , and stateliest rooms , Are but out - houses to our tombs ; Cities , tho ' e'er so great ...
Стр. 42
... pains , and were not at great expense to corrupt our nature , our nature would never corrupt us . - Clarendon , CLXV . One would think that the larger the company is in which we are engaged , the greater variety of thoughts and subjects ...
... pains , and were not at great expense to corrupt our nature , our nature would never corrupt us . - Clarendon , CLXV . One would think that the larger the company is in which we are engaged , the greater variety of thoughts and subjects ...
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admire Bacon beauty Ben Jonson better body Butler common Confucius Congreve conversation Cynthia's Revels death delight doth drink Dryden eyes fair fame fear fellow folly fool fortune friends genius give Godfrey Kneller gold Goldsmith gout grace happiness hath hear heart heaven hobby-horse honour Hudibras human humour idle Jonson keep kind king labour laugh learning live look looking-glass Lord Bacon Lord Bolingbroke lover man's mankind marriage Massinger men's mind Mirabel mirth nature never o'er observed once Ovid pains passions person play pleased pleasure Plutarch poet poison'd poor Pope praise pride reason rich seldom sense Shakspeare Shenstone sleep sometimes soul speak sweet taste tell temper thee thing thou art thought tion tongue true truth turn vex'd virtue wealth whole wisdom wise woman words write youth
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Стр. 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.
Стр. 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?
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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.