You gotta be cruel to be kind.
This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Sha...
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.
O, that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.
If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.
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?
Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause
The death of each days life
April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. (Sonnet XCVIII)
We build our understanding of the emotional world through the myths and legends of our culture. We are all, in part, made of fairy tales.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." (yaşam dediğin yürüyen bir gölge, bir garip oyuncu; ...
Had he not resembled My father as he slept I had done't!" Macbeth
It takes a lot of rehearsing for a man to be himself.
There are occasions and causes, why and wherefore in all things.
Jack shall have Jill. Nought shall go ill.
You write a hit play the same way you write a flop
How do you write? You write, man, you write, that’s how…If you practice an art faithfully it will make you wise, and most writers can use a little wising up.
There is little pride in writers. They know they are human and shall some day die and be forgotten. Knowing all this a writer is gentle and kindly where another man is severe and unkind.
What a lonely and silly thing it is to be an Armenian writer in America.
