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Started reading
February 24, 2025
Et tu, Brute?—Then fall Caesar!
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving. Say, I love Brutus, and I honor him; Say, I fear’d Caesar, honor’d him, and lov’d him.
O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well!
Not that I lov’d Caesar less, but that I lov’d Rome more.
As Caesar lov’d me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.
You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?
Macbeth,
What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do.
Macbeth trilogy.
What, can the devil speak true?
Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
The carcass of a beauty spent and done.
Of beauty and good-looking; can be used and, when used, can be left a carcass.
The injury of many a blasting hour, Let it not tell your judgment I am old, Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power; I might as yet have been a spreading flower, Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied Love to myself, and to no love beside.
If best were as it was, or best without.
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!’
His real habitude gave life and grace
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, He had the dialect and different skill, Catching all passions in his craft of will,
Ask’d their own wills and made their wills obey.
What with his art in youth and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power, Reserv’d the stalk and gave him all my flower.
O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!
Though Reason weep and cry, ‘It is thy last.’
Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Speaking of err, mistakes.
Religious love put out religion’s eye.
O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
Love’s arms are peace, ’gainst rule, ’gainst sense, ’gainst shame, And sweetens, in the suff’ring pangs it bears, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.
Appear to him as he to me appears,
When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her (though I know she lies) That she might think me some untutor’d youth, Unskillful in the world’s false forgeries.
O, love’s best habit’s in a soothing tongue, And age in love, loves not to have years told.
Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, That like two spirits do suggest me still: My better angel is a man (right fair), My worser spirit a woman (color’d ill).
For being both to me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another’s hell: The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
To win his heart she touch’d him here and there—
Touches so soft still conquer chastity.
Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend, All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder,
Hot was the day, she hotter that did look
And as he fell to her, she fell to him.
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care, Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather, Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Love is dying, faith’s defying, Heart’s denying, causer of this.
For now I see inconstancy More in women than in men remain.
Live with me and be my love,
Then live with me, and be my love.
Words are easy, like the wind, Faithful friends are hard to find: Every man will be thy friend, Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend; But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want.
Utilitarian mindset in friendships.
But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown; They that fawn’d on him before Use his company no more.
The spin of lady Fortune.
