William Shakespeare 1564-1616 Loves Labour s Lost John Bartlett 1919 Familiar Quotations


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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