Familiar Quotations: A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced to Their Sources in Ancient and Modern LiteratureLittle, Brown,, 1903 - 1158 pages |
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Page xiv
... YOUNG , EDWARD WALPOLE , HORACE 389 YOUNG , SIR JOHN , note HORACE , note 592 WALPOLE , SIR ROBERT 304 ZAMOYSKI , JAN SIR ROBERT , note 592 ZOUCH , THOMAS , note xiv INDEX OF AUTHORS .
... YOUNG , EDWARD WALPOLE , HORACE 389 YOUNG , SIR JOHN , note HORACE , note 592 WALPOLE , SIR ROBERT 304 ZAMOYSKI , JAN SIR ROBERT , note 592 ZOUCH , THOMAS , note xiv INDEX OF AUTHORS .
Page 36
... Young men think old men are fools ; but old men know young men are fools.1 All Fools . Act v . Sc . 1 . Virtue is not malicious ; wrong done her Is righted even when men grant they err . Monsieur D'Olive . Act i . Sc . 1 . For one heat ...
... Young men think old men are fools ; but old men know young men are fools.1 All Fools . Act v . Sc . 1 . Virtue is not malicious ; wrong done her Is righted even when men grant they err . Monsieur D'Olive . Act i . Sc . 1 . For one heat ...
Page 62
... young gentleman , according to Fates and Desti- nies and such odd sayings , the Sisters Three and such branches of learning , is indeed deceased ; or , as you would say in plain terms , gone to heaven . Sc . 2 . The very staff of my age ...
... young gentleman , according to Fates and Desti- nies and such odd sayings , the Sisters Three and such branches of learning , is indeed deceased ; or , as you would say in plain terms , gone to heaven . Sc . 2 . The very staff of my age ...
Page 96
... boy . - Ibid . Act ii . Sc . 4 . 1 For fools rush in where angels fear to tread . POPE : Essay on Criti cism , part ii . line 66 . 2 " Stolen forth " in White and Knight . So wise so young , they say , do never 96 SHAKESPEARE .
... boy . - Ibid . Act ii . Sc . 4 . 1 For fools rush in where angels fear to tread . POPE : Essay on Criti cism , part ii . line 66 . 2 " Stolen forth " in White and Knight . So wise so young , they say , do never 96 SHAKESPEARE .
Page 105
... Young Adam Cupid , he that shot so trim , When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid ! Act ii . Sc . 1 . He jests at scars that never felt a wound . But , soft ! what light through yonder window breaks ? It is the east , and Juliet is the ...
... Young Adam Cupid , he that shot so trim , When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid ! Act ii . Sc . 1 . He jests at scars that never felt a wound . But , soft ! what light through yonder window breaks ? It is the east , and Juliet is the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anatomy of Melancholy angels Apophthegms BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER beauty better blessed Book breath Cæsar Canto Chap Chaucer Childe Harold's Pilgrimage dead dear death Devil Diogenes DIOGENES LAERTIUS divine Don Quixote doth dream Dryden earth Epistle evil eyes Fable fair fear flower fool Frag give glory grave hand happy hast hath heart heaven Henry Heywood honour hope Hudibras Ibia Ibid JOHN King Lady light Line live look Lord man's Maxim mind morning Nature ne'er never night numbers o'er Paradise Lost peace pleasure Plutarch Pope proverb Publius Syrus rose Sect Shakespeare sing sleep smile song Sonnet sorrow soul Speech spirit Stanza stars sweet tears thee Themistocles There's thine things THOMAS THOMAS HEYWOOD thou art thought tongue truth unto viii virtue wind wise woman words young youth
Popular passages
Page 803 - 2. The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid. 6. Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming. xiv. 9. How art thou fallen from heaven, 0 Lucifer, son of the morning ! 12. The burden of the desert of the sea.
Page 517 - my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood. Second Speech on
Page 583 - all to Love. Love not the flower they pluck and know it not, And all their botany is Latin names. Blight. The silent organ loudest chants The master's requiem. Dirge. By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattl'd farmers stood, And fired the shot heard
Page 451 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite, — a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm By thoughts supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 132 - This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a
Page 526 - But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ' Did ye not hear it ? — No ! 't was but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street. On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
Page 501 - Banner. Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation! * Then conquer we must when our cause it is just, And this be our motto, " In God is our trust ! " And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. Ibid.
Page 126 - And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense : That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope. Live to be the show and gaze o' the time. Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries,
Page 381 - Even children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile. Line 183. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, — Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head. Line
Page 81 - talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. ibid. And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. King Richard II.