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I am a mirage...

Then, let me vanish tenderly —
You have to continue the journey alone...


Tagged

William Shakespeare



Listen to many, speak to a few.
William Shakespeare

07:11 pm, by elina-astra5
In time we hate that which we often fear.
William Shakespeare

06:31 pm, by elina-astra5
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
William Shakespeare

09:44 pm, by elina-astra5
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
William Shakespeare

01:18 am, by elina-astra37
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o’er fraught heart and bids it break.
William Shakespeare

12:44 am, by elina-astra62
Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.
William Shakespeare

11:38 pm, by elina-astra16
our revels now are ended

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.


William Shakespeare
, The Tempest

10:33 pm, by elina-astra20
you say that you love rain

You say that you love rain, but you open your umbrella when it rains. You say that you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines. You say that you love the wind, but you close your windows when wind blows. This is why I am afraid, you say that you love me too.


William Shakespeare

10:25 pm, by elina-astra10
take, o take those lips away

Take, O Take those Lips Away
Take, oh take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworne,
And those eyes: the breake of day,
Lights that doe mislead the Morne;
But my kisses bring againe, bring againe,
Seales of love, but seal’d in vaine, seal’d in vaine.


William Shakespeare

09:50 pm, by elina-astra36
why is my verse…

Why is my verse so barren of new pride?
So far from variation or quick change?
Why, with the time, do I not glance aside
To new-found methods and to compounds strange?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
O know, sweet love, I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent;
                 For as the sun is daily new and old,
                 So is my love still telling what is told.


William Shakespeare
from “Sonnets”, LXXVI

11:49 pm, by elina-astra5
to be, or not to be…

'To be, or not to be—that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep—
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. ‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep—
To sleep—perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,

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02:08 am, by elina-astra15