Maxioms by William Shakespeare
But that our feasts
In every mess have folly, and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, read more
But that our feasts
In every mess have folly, and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attired, swoon, I think,
To show myself a glass.
That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
I dote on his very absence. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
I dote on his very absence. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
A little more than kin, and less than kind!
A little more than kin, and less than kind!
Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
