'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
read more

'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
I've ate and can't digest.

Ratons and myse and soche smale dere
That was his mete that vii. yere.

Ratons and myse and soche smale dere
That was his mete that vii. yere.

And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal read more

And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse:
and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and
dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.

Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste
is the same? But the partridge is dearer, read more

Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste
is the same? But the partridge is dearer, and therefore thought
preferable.

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.

Think of the man who first tried German sausage.

Think of the man who first tried German sausage.

When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
read more

When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
As the place where the clustered palm-trees are,
At the last of the thirty palace-gates
The pet of the harem, Rose-in-Bloom,
Orders a feast in his favorite room--
Glittering square of colored ice,
Sweetened with syrup, tinctured with spice,
Creams, and cordials, and sugared dates,
Syrian apples, Othmanee quinces,
Limes and citrons and apricots,
And wines that are known to Eastern princes.

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.]

First come, first served.

First come, first served.