Tis the maddest trick a man can ever play in his whole life, to let his breath sneak out of his body without any more ado, and without so much as a rap oer the pate, or a kick of the guts to go out like the snuff of a farthing candle, and die merely of the mulligrubs, or the sullens.
Quotes about pate (12 Quotes)
Ogre had a great game, and my bunch is growing up. I thought they grew up as a team tonight when Pate went out of the game. Burton made a run and took the lead, and we responded back. I was proud of them.
LIVER, n. A large red organ thoughtfully provided by nature to be bilious with. The liver is heaven's best gift to the goose without it that bird would be unable to supply us with the Strasbourg 'pate'.
There once was a Bald Man who sat down after work on a hot summer's day. A Fly came up and kept buzzing about his bald pate, and stinging him from time to time. The Man aimed a blow at his little enemy, but - whack - his palm come on his own head instead again the Fly tormented him, but this time the Man was wiser and said ''YOU WILL ONLY INJURE YOURSELF IF YOU TAKE NOTICE OF DISPICABLE ENEMIES.''
The Herald Sun Tour is one of the premier cycling events in Australia, so the boys and I are keen to make a good showing in our own country, ... The race actually suits us well, there will be a few bunch kicks and a tough day in the hills, but it should come down to the uphill time trial to decide the overall winner. I hope that either I or Danny Pate has the legs on that day to bring home the win for Jelly Belly.
We really played good defense tonight. I've seen (Pate) for three years now and I know how she can affect a game. But we really limited what she did.
I sometimes feel that more lousy dishes are presented under the banner of pate than any other.
The big thing about the past is that a lot of people didn't have disposable income. Now we do. Now, if you want to go out and get a liver pate birthday cake for your dog and throw a party, you can do that sort of thing.
My idea of heaven is eating pate de foie gras to the sound of trumpets.
You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come Knock as you please, there's no body at home.
John, to stop Arthur's tide in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part;
And France, whose armour conscience buckled on,
Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,
That broker that still breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lose
But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that;
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the bias of the world-
The world, who of itself is peised well,
Made to run even upon even ground,
Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
This sway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent-
And this same bias, this commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
Time to put off the world and go somewhereAnd find my health again in the sea air,Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,And make my soul before my pate is bare.