The art of our necessities is strange, that can make vile things precious.
 William Shakespeare, King Lear (1623). copy citation

edit
Author William Shakespeare
Source King Lear
Topic hate need value
Date 1623
Language English
Reference
Note Written between 1603 and 1606
Weblink http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1128/pg1128-images.html

Context

“Lear. My wits begin to turn.
Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold?
I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee. fool. [Sings]
He that has and a little tiny wit- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain- Must make content with his fortunes fit,” source

Meaning and analysis

write a note
report