stories that are good is deserving for a higher ranking
William ShakespeareLike flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for sport.
William ShakespeareFor to be wise and love exceeds man's might.
William ShakespeareBut rather reason thus with reason fetter: Love sough is good but given unsought is better.
William ShakespeareHow yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit;
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,
Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts to the leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil and villany.
If not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls,
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
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The love of heaven makes one heavenly.
William ShakespeareVengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head
William ShakespeareAffliction is enamoured of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Tag: love true-love shakespeare fate tragedy romeo-and-juliet friar-lawrence
He is well paid that is well satisfied.
William ShakespeareTag: value-of-work
La culpa, no está en nuestras estrellas, sino en nosotros mismos, que consentimos en ser inferiores.
William ShakespeareTag: william-shakespeare julius-caesar español frases
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