I long with all my heart to see the prince: I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! Princes have but their tides for their glories. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.

Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break. I must be married to my brother's daughter. When men are unprepared and look not for it. I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad. Why who's so gross. This is the fruit of rashness! Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper, More than my brother: 'Ay,' quoth my uncle, 'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:'. [5], In 1983 Carol Ann Kasparek condemned the character of Ethan for his implausibility, and still called Steinbeck’s treatment of American moral decay superficial, although she went on to approve the story's mythic elements. Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt. Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes.

If to have done the thing you gave in charge. Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die! To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.

the third person narrative reappears." I do love thee so. And part in just proportion our small strength.

Sophocles and Socrates also penetrated deeply the human psyche far earlier, but Shakespeare is a writer par excellence, perhaps the ultimate in human literary achievement. He considers that while he had to kill enemy soldiers in the war, he was never a murderer thereafter. What shall I say more than I have inferr'd? Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry. No. And in the breath of bitter words let's smother.

Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction: No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt.

Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward.

The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife. here will I lie tonight; But where to-morrow? I partly know the man: go, call him hither. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; He should, for that, commit your godfathers: That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower.

We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Thy age confirm'd, proud, subdued, bloody. To desperate ventures and assured destruction. Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north. Because you know, my lord, my mother lives. I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. Where in that nest of spicery they shall breed.

Three examples of my favorites are: “Keep me from the wisdom which does not want, the joy which does not weep, and the greatness which does not bow before children.” (Kahlil Gibran), “Our task as men is to find those first few principles that will calm the infinite anguish of free souls. Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace?

Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.

I hate it, and desire all good men's love. O, now I want the priest that spake to me: How they at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse. Which now, two tender playfellows to dust. Saul Bellow also lauded the book, saying: "John Steinbeck returns to the high standards of The Grapes of Wrath and to the social themes that made his early work so impressive, and so powerful." And reverend looker on, of two fair queens. © Copyright 2017-2020 Values of the Wise. Dispatch, my lord; the duke would be at dinner: Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head. Here you will find a fairly authoritative list of Shakespeare’s most time-tested insights into the mind of the human being, both in theory and in practice.

The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! Come, come, dispatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim. That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, But now two mirrors of his princely semblance.

He wonders to what end you have assembled.

for shame, if not for charity.

To those whose dealings have deserved the place. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.

Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother; The liquid drops of tears that you have shed.

Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child!

The children live, whose parents thou hast. Wherefore? Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. Where are the evidence that do accuse me? To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight; And to give notice, that no manner of person. His grace looks cheerfully and smooth to-day; There's some conceit or other likes him well. Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave. Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower: And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death!