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We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
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We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without books;
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.
He may live without books,--what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope,--what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love,--what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining?
'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
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'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
I've ate and can't digest.
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
The consummate pleasure (in eating) is not in the costly flavour,
but in yourself. Do you seek for sauce read more
The consummate pleasure (in eating) is not in the costly flavour,
but in yourself. Do you seek for sauce for sweating?
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon.
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon.
Gluttony kills more than the sword, and is the kindler of all
evils.
[Lat., Gula plures occidit quam read more
Gluttony kills more than the sword, and is the kindler of all
evils.
[Lat., Gula plures occidit quam gladius, estque fomes omnium
malorum.]
Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the
wall-newt and the water; that in the read more
Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the
wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the
foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets, swallows the old rat
and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the standing pool;
who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stock-punished and
imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to
his body,
Horse to ride, and weapon to wear,
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Mithriades, by frequently drinking poison, rendered it impossible
for any poison to hurt him. You, Cinna, by always dining read more
Mithriades, by frequently drinking poison, rendered it impossible
for any poison to hurt him. You, Cinna, by always dining on next
to nothing, have taken due precaution against ever perishing from
hunger.
"An't it please your Honour," quoth the Peasant,
"This same Desset is not so pleasant:
Give me read more
"An't it please your Honour," quoth the Peasant,
"This same Desset is not so pleasant:
Give me again my hollow Tree,
A Crust of Bread, and Liberty."