If you wish to grow thinner, diminish your dinner,
And take to light claret instead of pale ale;
read more

If you wish to grow thinner, diminish your dinner,
And take to light claret instead of pale ale;
Look down with an utter contempt upon butter,
And never touch bread till its toasted--or stale.

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.

Feast to-day makes fast to-morrow.
[Lat., Festo die si quid prodegeris,
Profesto egere liceat nisi peperceris.]

Feast to-day makes fast to-morrow.
[Lat., Festo die si quid prodegeris,
Profesto egere liceat nisi peperceris.]

If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you
would eat chickens i' read more

If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you
would eat chickens i' th' shell.

Bread is the staff of life.

Bread is the staff of life.

To eat at another's table is your ambition's height.
[Lat., Bona summa putes, aliena vivere quadra.]

To eat at another's table is your ambition's height.
[Lat., Bona summa putes, aliena vivere quadra.]

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

'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.

'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.

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.