|
| John Bartlett, comp. (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| William Shakespeare. (1564-1616) |
| Love's Labour 's Lost. |
| 1 |
| Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath, Study to break it and not break my troth. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 2 |
| Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 3 |
| Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others’ books. These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 4 |
| At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled mirth; 1 But like of each thing that in season grows. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 5 |
| A man in all the world’s new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 6 |
| A high hope for a low heaven. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 7 |
| And men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 8 |
| That unlettered small-knowing soul. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 9 |
| A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 10 |
| Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 11 |
| The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now ’t is not to be found. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 2. |
| 12 |
| The rational hind Costard. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 2. |
| 13 |
| Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act i. Sc. 2. |
| 14 |
| A man of sovereign parts he is esteem’d; Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 15 |
| A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour’s talk withal. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 16 |
| Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 17 |
| By my penny of observation. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 18 |
| The boy hath sold him a bargain,—a goose. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 19 |
| To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 20 |
| A very beadle to a humorous sigh. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 21 |
| This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 22 |
| A buck of the first head. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 23 |
| He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 24 |
| Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 25 |
| You two are book-men. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 26 |
| Dictynna, goodman Dull. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 27 |
| These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| 28 |
| For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 29 |
| It adds a precious seeing to the eye. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 30 |
| As sweet and musical As bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his hair; 2 And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 31 |
| From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 32 |
| He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 33 |
| Priscian! a little scratched, ’t will serve. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 34 |
| They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 35 |
| In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 36 |
| They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 37 |
| Let me take you a button-hole lower. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 38 |
| I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 39 |
| A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 40 |
| When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 41 |
| The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. |
| Love’s Labour ’s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Note 1. For “mirth,” White reads shews; Singer, shows. [back] |
| Note 2. Musical as is Apollo’s lute.—John Milton: Comus, line 78. [back] |
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