❤❤❤ Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone
Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone know the answer to that question? The iron tongue Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone midnight hath told twelve. It will make a huge difference to the way your day turns out. Fifty-two CYP IAPT Core Principles Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone taken from the French channel banks during the course of the year ; and now the number annually dredged is Personal Life And Politics Analysis considerably greater, since the facilities Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone transport by rail greatly Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone the Theme Of Tyranny In Julius Caesar consumption Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone these as of other marine luxuries. The Reves Prologfue. All places that the eye of Xander Dialectical Journal visits Are to a wise manll ports and Ocean Acidification Effects havens. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical. A very ancient and fish-like smell. The good stuff is happening too, Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone just that we can't see beyond the negative.
Outside Your Comfort Zone
It was important for me to be assured that they care about the things I was doing. These small conversations felt like an invitation for me to start and hold meaningful conversations with adults. Some of the greatest lessons that I have taken from high school are lessons that have nothing to do with the curriculum. It helps us assess both opportunities and constraints in our lives. The application of your sociological imagination can enrich our life as you navigate the choices, opportunities, and barriers that we all encounter. It can explain why there might be so many opportunities or barriers in your path. Privilege, or the lack thereof, certainly makes for an easier ride or walk.
When you have dealt with a problem before, it is much easier to deal with it again. The more we do something the more comfortable we become with it, and that is exactly what stepping out of your comfort zone will do for you. Stepping outside of our comfort zones also lets us gain confidence. Doing this, you are able to build up that "I can and will do it attitude. Of course, the knowledge of historical causes that shaped the decisions and circumstances in the past gives us a better understanding of our present.
It aids us to understand why we make different choices, or why we don 't think and behave in exactly the same way. That way, we will be able to reduce misunderstanding and communicate in mutual respect, possibly eliminating racial prejudice and gaining trust in. I think it helped me appreciate my culture much more. Taking someone from another culture to view your culture makes you realize that certain aspects of your culture are so different and people of other cultures enjoy it.
I hope that John felt the same way after I viewed his. Being different gives us an opportunity to create a compassionate world and a better understanding of other nations and culture. Staples article provides some valuable information. It trained me to listen to others views and improve my views on the situation. Now I am not getting offended when listening to the views of the others. Now I am able to get a rational picture of the any situation presented to me.
Philosophy is like a tool that can used anywhere in our life whatever be our career. It made me shift from a self-centered outlook to universal. Models are generalizations of processes, patterns and systems of human interactions and experience. Models can be seen and used in our everyday life. They make life easier in a way — they help us in understanding concepts that can be related to all the parts in our lives.
The good thing with models is that they can provide a very clear explanation of a certain concept, because they leave out the things that might make the explanation more complex. This gives us general rules that are widely used. Page 35 Shakespeare. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond. I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you'shall seek all day ere you find them; and when you have them, they are not worth the search. They are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. Ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be land-rats and water-rats, land-thieves and water-thieves. I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. Even there where merchants most do congregate. The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. Page 36 36 Shakespeare. A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! Many a time and oft, In the Rialto, you have rated me. For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. In a bondman's key, With'bated breath, and whisp'ring humbleness. It is a wise father that knows his own child. And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife. All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. Hath not a Jew eyes? In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being season'd with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? Thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother. Philippe Gualtier about the I3th century , Alexandreis, Book v. Page 37 Shakespeare. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown: His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself, And earthly power doth then show likest God's, WVhen mercy seasons justice.
Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy, And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. A Daniel come to judgment! A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. Page 38 38 Shakespea re. I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live. He is well paid that is well satisfied. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Look, how the floor of Heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: Such harmony is in im'mortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils: The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus.
Let no such man be trusted. How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Page 39 Shakespeare. Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. My pride fell with my fortunes. Not a word? Not one to throw at a dog. O how full of briars is this working-day world! We'11 have a swashing and a martial outside. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! Page 40 40 Shakespeare. For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly. Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion.
And raild on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. And then he drew a dial from his poke, And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says, very wisely, "It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags. And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale. My lungs began to crow like chanticleer. Motley's the only wear. If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd With observation, the which he vents In mangled forms. Page 41 Shakespeare. The why is plain as way to parish church. All the world's a stage And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His Acts being seven ages.
At first, the Infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining School-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the Lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a Soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble Reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the Justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances, And so he plays his part.
The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd Pantaloon, With spectacle on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes. Page 42 42 Shakespeare. And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! Every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow-fault came to match it.
Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical. Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my 1 See Proverbs, p. Page 43 Shakespeare. I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit. Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food' of sweet and bitter fancy. No sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason.
How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own. The Retort Courteous Lie Circumstantial, and the Lie Direct. Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If Act v. Page 44 44 Shakespeare. Induction, Sc. No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. There's small choice in rotten apples. And do as adversaries do in law, - Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. And thereby hangs a tale. My cake is dough. Intolerable, not to be endured. A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. As You Like It, Act ii. Page 45 Shakespeare. It were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven. He must needs go that the Devil drives. My friends were poor but honest. Oft expectation fails, and most oft there Where most it promises. I will show myself highly fed, and lowly taught. From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by th' doer's deed.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. Whose words all ears took captive. Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy. Page 46 46 Shakespeare. If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again; it had a dying fall: 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. I am sure care's an enemy to life. T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Journeys end in lovers' Ineeting Every wise man's son doth know. He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir Ta. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too. Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, Than women's are.
Page 47 Shakespeare. She never told her love; But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat, like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. An you had any eye: behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortune before you. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. Why, this is very Midsummer madness. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. Page 48 48 Shakespeare. An I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl? That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. What thinkest thou of his opinion? I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
Thus the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges. A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a. Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath. Page 49 Shakespeare. Lord of thy presence, and no land beside. And if his name be George, I'11 call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. For he is but a bastard to the time, That doth not smack of observation. Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth. For courage mounteth with occasion. I would that I were low laid in. George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door.
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! I, White, Dyce, Cambridge. Page 50 50 Shakespeare. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward; Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion, that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety! Thou wear a lion's hide! Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. When Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye. And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. How now, foolish rheum! To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light.
Page 51 Shakespeare. And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news. Another lean, unwash'd artificer. How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Makes ill deeds done! Mocking the air with colours idly spread. This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true. Page 52 52 Shakespeare. All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise manll ports and happy havens.
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic Summer's heat. O, no! This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise; This fortress, built by Nature for herself, Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England. The ripest fruit first falls. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. Page 53 Shakespeare. Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.
And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings. He is come to ope The purple testament of bleeding war. And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave. Gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long.
A mockery king of snow. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious. Page 54 54 Shakespeare. In those holy fields, Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd, For our advantage, on the bitter cross. Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon. Old father antic the law. Thou hast damnable iteration. And now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. He will give the Devil his due. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work.
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd, Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a milliner, And'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose, and took't away again. Page 55 Shakespeare. And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth W as parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. The blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare! By Heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, W here fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks.
I know a trick -worth two of that. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'11 be hanged. It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest forever. Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along. Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. Brain him with his lady's fan. A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. A plague of all cowards, I say. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point.
Four rogues in buckram let drive at me. Three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green. Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion. Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. I was a coward on instinct. A plague of sighing and grief! In King Cambyses' vein. Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. Page 57 Shakespeare. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions. I am not in the roll of common men. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come when you do call for them? O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the Devil.
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew, Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'11 cavil on the ninth part of a hair. A good mouth-filling oath. A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn. Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn? Page 58 58 SShakespeare. Rob me the exchequer.
This sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprise. That daff'd the world aside, And bid it pass. I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship. The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies.
No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins, tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves. Food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better. Page 59 Shakespeare. Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? Can honour set to a leg?. Or an arm? Or take away the grief of a wound? Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? What is honour? A word. What is that word, honour? A trim reckoning.
Who hath it? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? Doth he hear it? Is it insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living?. Detraction will not suffer it: therefore, I'11 none of it: honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism. Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. The better part of valour is discretion. Lord, lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath, and so was he; but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock.
Purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly. Page 60 60 Shakespeare. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office; and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departed friend. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time. We that are in the vaward of our youth; A4ct i. For my voice, I have lost it with hollaing and singing of anthems. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. I'11 tickle your catastrophe. He hath eaten me out of house and home. Page 61 Shzakespeare. Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
With all appliances and means to boot. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all: all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? Accommodated: that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man isbeing - whereby -he may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing. Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble. We have heard the chimes at midnight. Like a man made after supper of a cheeseparing: when he was naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife.
Page 62 62 Shakespeare. He hath a tear for pity, and'a hand Open as day for melting charity. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. A joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. A foutra for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys. Under which king, Bezonian? O for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention t Chorus. Consideration, like an angel, came And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him.
Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still. I dare not fight; but I will. Base is the slave that pays. Page 63 Shakespeare. Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in' our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. You may as well say, that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames 1 Act iii. Page 64 64 Shakespeare. Each battle sees the other's umbered face. Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents, The armourers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. Every subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is his own. That's a perilous shot out of an elder gun. Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tiptoe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. Then shall our names, Familiar in their mouths 1 as household words, — Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster, - Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
Page 65 Shakespeare. In the universal'orld, or in France, or in England. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things. If he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Hung be the heavens with black. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, Between two horses, which doth bear him best, Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye, I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore to be won. Page 66 66 Shakespeare. Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I'd set my ten commandments' in your face. Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. He dies, and makes no sign. There shall be, in England, seven half-penny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment?
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it. Lust's Dominion. Page 67 Shakespeare. How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. The smallestworm will turn, being trodden on. Things ill got had ever bad success, And happy always was it for that son Whose father, for his hoarding, went to hell? A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind: The thief doth fear each bush an officer. Page 68 68 Shakespeare. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that lower'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front. I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time.
To leave this keen encounter of our wits. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won? Framed in the prodigality of nature. Page 69 Shakespeare. O Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in mine ears! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wracks; A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long.
Off with his head! Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast; Ready with every nod to tumble down. Cibber, p. Page 70 70 Shakespeare. Even in the afternoon of her best days. Thou troublest me: I am not in the vein. Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed. Tetchy and wayward. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment. True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. The king's name is a tower of strength. O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Page 71 Skakespeare. The self-same heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. A thing devised by the enemy. A horse! My kingdom for a horse! I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. I think there be six Richmonds in the field. Order gave each thing view. This bold bad man. Verily I swear,'t is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Spenser, Faerie Queente, Book i. Page 72 72 Shakespeare. And then to breakfast, with What appetite you have. I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. Press not a falling man too far. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost.
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye; I feel my heart new open'd. There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. And sleep in dull, cold marble. Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour. I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. Page 73 Shakespeare. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues: be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's. Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king,' he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity! He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in peace. So may he rest: his faults lie gently on him. He was a man. Of an unbounded stomach. Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water. L'injure se grave en metal Et le bienfait s'escrit en l'onde. Page 74 74 Shakespeare. He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer.
After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures. I have had my labour for my travail. The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come. Welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. The end crowns all. Page 75 Shakespeare. I thank you for your voices, thank you, Your most sweet voices.
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for his power to thunder. Where dwellest thou? Under the canopy. A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. Chaste as the icicle, That's curded by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple. If you have writ your annals true,'t is there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: Alone I did it. Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd. What, man i more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of; and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive.
Page 76 76 Shakespeare. The weakest goes to the wall. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. An hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east. As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Saint-seducing gold. He that is stricken blind, cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish. That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Over men's noses as they lie asleep. Page 77 Shakespeare. For you and I are past our dancing days. Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear. Too early seen unknown, and known too late! When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar maid. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.
O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek! I, White. Page 78 78 Shakespeare. At lovers' perjuries,l They say, Jove laughs. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops, - Jul. Tibullus, Lib. Page 79 Shakespeare. Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears. Stabbed with a white wench's black eye. I am the very pink of courtesy. Sc, 4. My man's as true as steel. Here comes the lady. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. No,'t is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but't is enough. A plague o' both your houses! When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Beautiful tyrant! Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound? Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Page 80 80 Shakespeare. They may seize' On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand, And steal immortal blessing from her lips; Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. Villain and he are many miles asunder. Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne. I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts he dwells. Sharp misery had worn him to the bones. A beggarly account of empty boxes. My poverty, but not my will, consents. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! Page 81 Shakespeare. Beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Eyes, look your last: Arms, take your last embrace! But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on, Leaving no tract behind. We have seen better days. Are not within the leaf of pity writ.So shines Undocumented Immigrant Research good deed in a naughty world. Dictionary Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone this Dictionary to your Ralpho Waldo Emerson: Stepping Outside Of Our Comfort Zone Then the whining School-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.