A Quote by Aldous Huxley

Feasts must be solemn and rare, or else they cease to be feasts. — © Aldous Huxley
Feasts must be solemn and rare, or else they cease to be feasts.
The observances of the church concerning feasts and fasts are tolerably well kept, since the rich keep the feasts and the poor the fasts.
He who feasts every day, feasts no day.
Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown in courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship.
Feasts and business and pleasure and enjoyments seem great things to us, whilst we think of nothing else; but as soon as we add death to them they all sink into an equal littleness.
If men with fleshly mortals must be fed, and chew with bleeding teeth the breathing bread; what else is this but to devour our guests, and barbarously renew Cyclopean feasts? While Earth not only can your needs supply, but, lavish of her store, provides for luxury; a guiltless feast administers with ease, and without blood is prodigal to please.
Set we forward; let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together. So through Lud's town march, And in the temple of the great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. Set on there! Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.
I feast on wine and bread, and feasts they are.
Eating's pretty major; we have feasts at our house.
Fools make feasts and wise men eat them.
Joy never feasts so high as when the first course is of misery.
One other fact is significant: the domestic feasts and sacrifices of single families, which in David's time must still have been general, gradually declined and lost their importance as social circles widened and life became more public.
Well, you can go on looking forward," said Gandalf. "There may be many unexpected feasts ahead of you.
Country ham is baked whole, usually with a glaze, sometimes studded with cloves, and served as the centerpiece of Christmas and Easter feasts.
Conversation, fastidious goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will.
My father was a preacher in Maryland and we had crab feasts - with corn on the cob, but no beer, being Methodist - outside on the church lawn.
Where are the feasts we were promised? Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine.
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