Mortality In Hamlet Quotes by William Shakespeare, Claudius, Frederick Lenz, Mark Twain and many others.
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—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
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?
The native hue of resolution is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought; and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
To die, to sleep – To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
Shakespeare said: “There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.” Everything happens perfectly.
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
From this time forth
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death the memory be green.
To die: – to sleep: No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
I do not set my life at a pin’s fee,
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
