All sorrows are good (or are less) with bread.
[Sp., Todos los duelos con pan son buenos (or son read more

All sorrows are good (or are less) with bread.
[Sp., Todos los duelos con pan son buenos (or son menos).]

A stomach that is seldom empty despises common food.
[Lat., Jejunus raro stomachus vulgaria temnit.]

A stomach that is seldom empty despises common food.
[Lat., Jejunus raro stomachus vulgaria temnit.]

Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet read more

Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike; make not a
City feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the
first place; sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of
corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold read more

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of
corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold more than mine.
[Lat., Millia frumenti tua triverit area centum.
Non tuus hinc capiet venter plus ac meus.]

A loaf of bread, the Walrus said,
Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
read more

A loaf of bread, the Walrus said,
Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters, dear,
We can begin to feed!

No, Antony, take the lot:
But, first or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. read more

No, Antony, take the lot:
But, first or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
Grew faw with feasting there.

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.

"Live like yourself," was soon my lady's word,
And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.

"Live like yourself," was soon my lady's word,
And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.

Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
read more

Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
Still on their dinner turn--
Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home,
And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword.