Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt.
How many things by season season'd are to their right praise and true perfection!william shakespeare
Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs, When season'd by love, which no rancour disturbs And sweeten'd by all that is sweetest in life Than turbot, bisque, ortolans, eaten in strife! But if, out of humour, and hungry, alone A man should sit down to dinner, each one Of the dishes of which the cook chooses to spoil With a horrible mixture of garlic and oil, The chances are ten against one, I must own, He gets up as ill-tempered as when he sat down.Owen Meredith
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise, and true perfection!william shakespeare