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The fellow is either a madman or a poet.
The fellow is either a madman or a poet.
Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your read more
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France,
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggared,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
He that hath a head of waxe must not walke in the sunne.
He that hath a head of waxe must not walke in the sunne.
My sun has not yet set for ever.
My sun has not yet set for ever.
He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter,
or as a fool to the correction read more
He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter,
or as a fool to the correction of the stocks;
Till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to the
snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
He that hath the spice, may season as he list.
He that hath the spice, may season as he list.
