Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
actions affection beautiful become believe better called cast cause character child close consider conversation course dear death desire devoted doubt excellent exist expression face fall father fear feelings fellow felt fire folly forget give given gone grave Hamlet hand happy heart hope hour human idea imagine individual interest kind knew known lady language late leave less light live look manner means meet mental mind mother nature never night noble object observed once opinion painful passed past perhaps persons pleasure poor possessed presently reason regard remarkable rest scene seek seemed seen single situation smile society soon sought soul speak spirit strange surely sweet tell things thought tion told true turn whole wish woman write young
Pàgina 78 - I have of late— but wherefore I know not— lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Pàgina 100 - OH, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Pàgina 76 - That youth and observation copied there ; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain...
Pàgina 76 - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And.
Pàgina 80 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Pàgina 75 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.
Pàgina 61 - O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war...
Pàgina 75 - O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Pàgina 78 - What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.