Most miserable Is the desire that’s glorious: blest be those, How mean soe’er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
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Most miserable Is the desire that’s glorious: blest be those, How mean soe’er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; You go not till I set you up a glass Where you may see the inmost part of you. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
In the corrupted currents of this world Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft ’tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law. But ’tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature; and we ourselves compell’d, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. […]
What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. The violence of either grief or joy Their own enactures with themselves destroy: Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I do believe you think what now you speak; But what we do determine oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Give me that man That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow’s shadow. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Dreams, indeed, are ambition, for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
To expostulate what majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)