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A blog from America's Bad Breath Expert and creator of the TheraBreath formula

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Archive for the ‘Shakespeare’ Category

Other Names for Bad Breath

Monday, December 27th, 2010

It’s a famous quote we’ve all heard. William Shakespeare’s famous line spoken by Juliet in Romeo and Juliet “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” But is the same for the contrary? Does bad breath smell as sour by other names? Here are a few synonyms for bad breath:

Halitosis – a commonly used Latinate term meaning affliction. Its origin comes from Victorian times when studies into the causes of bad breath were gaining momentum.  The first recorded use of Halitosis was in 1874. J.W. Howe’s work titled The Breath and the Diseases Which Give It a Fetid Odor states “Chronic poisoning from lead, arsenic, or mercury may also be enumerated as a common cause of halitosis.” Howe lists other possible causes of halitosis which include emotional pangs, catarrh, mineral poisons and dyspepsia. Clearly, today’s causes of bad breath have changed dramatically since the late 19th century.

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Shakespeare and his bad-breathed Mistress

Thursday, October 11th, 2007

In related literature, Shakespeare lovingly writes about his bad-breathed lady in Sonnet 130. Bad breath was so common in Elizabethan England, it even turned up in Shakespeare’s writing. I wonder what Shakespeare would have to say about Therabreath….maybe something like, “Oh my mistress, Therabreath thou must seek, it really works, thou breath improvest in a week.” Enjoy. :)

Sonnet 130

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Shakespeare

 


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