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Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good: But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
hes the only one realizing how wrong this is.. He won't stand for it but also trying to keep quiet for his mom
My father’s spirit in arms! all is not well;
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Haste me to know’t, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark:
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do, to express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack.
‘Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.
More relative than this: the play ’s the thing Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
For ’tis a question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
I will speak daggers to her, but use none;
A villain kills my father; and for that, I, his sole son, do this same villain send To heaven.
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.

