GIVE ME MY ROMEO; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
-- Romeo and Juliet 3 ii
by compound complex 19 Replies latest jw friends
GIVE ME MY ROMEO; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
-- Romeo and Juliet 3 ii
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' 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,
Hamlet 3 i
Thanks, Fisherman!
“And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. I would not change it. As You Like It
"-Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound an fury
Signifying nothing." - Macbeth Act 5 scene 5
"Therein the patient
Must minister to himself."
I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands,
organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the
same
food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same
diseases,
heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same
winter
and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If
you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not
die?
And if you wrong us, do we not revenge? If we are like you in
the
rest, we will resemble you in that.
SONNET 121
'Tis better to be vile, than vile esteemed,
When not to be, receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost which is so deemed
Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing:
For why should others' false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
No; -- I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses reckon up their own:
I may be straight, though they themselves be bevel;
By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown;
Unless this general evil they maintain,
All men are bad, and in their badness reign.
Modern version below video.
It’s better to be vile than to have people think you’re vile, especially
when they accuse you of being vile and you’re really not, and then you
don’t even get to enjoy doing the thing that people say is vile but that
you don’t think is. For why should people who are corrupt themselves
get to wink knowingly at my lustful inclinations? And why should people
who are even weaker than I pry into my weaknesses, deciding that what I
think is good is bad? No, I am what I am, and the people who accuse me
are only revealing their own corruptions. Maybe I’m straight, and
they’re the ones who are crooked; you can’t measure my actions by their
foul thoughts, unless they’re willing to believe that all men are bad
and thrive in their badness.