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Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.
topics: love  
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
topics: philosophy  
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
topics: food , love , music  
To be, or not to be: that is the question: 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 die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd!
topics: death , existence , life  
To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...
There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.
topics: insanity , women  
Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.
Brevity is the soul of wit.
topics: brevity , wit  
Listen to many, speak to a few.
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
topics: shakespeare  
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
topics: weird-isn-t-it  
771 likes
This above all: to thine own self be true.
topics: self , truth  
728 likes
Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
topics: horatio  
673 likes
When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions!
topics: sorrows  
610 likes
To be, or not to be: that is the question: 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 die: to sleep; No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub.
topics: death , pain , sleep , suicide  
610 likes
God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another.
topics: deceit , falsehood  
550 likes
Sweets to the sweet.
topics: death , love , shakespeare  
514 likes
Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
510 likes

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