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It warms the very sickness in my heart, That I shall live and tell him to his teeth, "Thus diddest thou;"
Sep 25, 2025
You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame
Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
More matter with less art.
Shakespeare said: "There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow." Everything happens perfectly.
Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.
There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list!
For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
This is the very coinage of your brain: this bodiless creation ecstasy.
Your worm is your only emperor for diet; we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world.
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, (135) Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: (140) So excellent a king; that was, to this.
Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
This is the very ecstasy of love.
[S]ince brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.
O God, I could be bound in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams.
The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
To take arms against a sea of troubles.
This above all; to thine own self be true.
God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.
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