"Feed on" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... Wild pheasants feed on grain, seed, green leaves, and insects. They have been seen as eager as country children after the ripe blackberries in the hedges, or, later in the year, after sloes and haws. The root of the buttercup is also a very favourite food of the pheasant, and they will eat greedily ...
— Mamma's Stories about Birds • Anonymous (AKA the author of "Chickseed without Chickweed")
... rulers of France and Austria, who accompanied him. He had concluded with Saladin a truce of three years, three months, three days, and three hours, and then, disregarding his oath that he would not leave the Holy Land while he had a horse left to feed on, he set sail in haste for home. He had need to, for his brother John was intriguing ...
— Historical Tales, Vol. 4 (of 15) - The Romance of Reality • Charles Morris
... the name Of your chaste wife, I will become your maid, Your slave, your servant—anything you will, If for that name of servant and of slave You will but smile upon me now and then. Or if, as I well think, you cannot love me, Love where you list, only but say you love me: I'll feed on shadows, let the substance go. Will you deny me such a small request? What, will you neither love nor flatter me? O, then I see your hate here doth but wound me, And with that hate it ...
— A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. IX • Various
... explanation, involving neither will nor purpose nor design either in the animal or anyone else, was on the cards. If your neck is too short to reach your food, you die. That may be the simple explanation of the fact that all the surviving animals that feed on foliage have necks or trunks long enough to reach it. So bang goes your belief that the necks must have been designed to reach the food. But Lamarck did not believe that the necks were so designed in the beginning: he believed ...
— Back to Methuselah • George Bernard Shaw
... everything. When we begin to live, what is sweet is so sweet to us, and what is bitter so bitter, that we inevitably direct all our desires towards pleasures, and seek not merely for a 'month or twain to feed on honeycomb,' but for all our years to taste no other food, ignorant all the while that we may really be starving ...
— Selected Prose of Oscar Wilde - with a Preface by Robert Ross • Oscar Wilde
|
