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Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,

Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 3

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Ibid.

Springes to catch woodcocks.

Ibid.

When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows.

Ibid.

Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence.

Ibid.

Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.

Sc. 4.

But to my mind, though I am native here

And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honoured in the breach than the observance.

Ibid.

Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damın'd,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,

Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou comest in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,

King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!

Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,

Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws
To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous,1 and we fools of nature
So horridly to shake our disposition

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?

I do not set my life at a pin's fee.

My fate cries out,

Hamlet. Act i. Se 4.

Ibid

And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.

Ibid.

Unhand me, gentlemen.

By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me !

Ibid

Ibid.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

I am thy father's spirit,

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,2
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away.

But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part

And each particular hair to stand an end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: 3

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!

Sc. 5

And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf.

Ibid

1 And makes night hideous. - POPE: The Dunciad, book iii. line 166.

2 "To lasting fires" in Singer.

3 "Porcupine" in Singer and Staunton.

4 "Rots itself" in Staunton.

My uncle!

O my prophetic soul!

O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5

Ibid.

But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
My custom always of the afternoon.

Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousell'd, disappointed, unaneled,

No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.

Leave her to heaven

Ibid

Ibid.

And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.

Ibid

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

Ibid.

While memory holds a seat

In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory

I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.

Ibid.

Within the book and volume of

my

brain.

Ibid.

O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
My tables, meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a
At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark.

villain :

Ibid.

Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark

But he's an arrant knave.

Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord,

grave

To tell us this.

Every man has business and desire,

come from the

Ibid..

Such as it is.

Ibid

Art thou there, truepenny?

Come on

you

hear this fellow in the cellarage.

Ibid.

O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid

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That he is mad, 't is true: 't is true 't is pity;

And pity 't is 't is true.

Ibid.

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To be honest as this world goes, is to be one man

picked out of ten thousand.

Ibid.

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Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.

Ibid

On fortune's cap we are not the very button.

1 A short saying oft contains much wisdom.-SOPHOCLES: Aletes, frág.99

Ibid.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

A dream itself is but a shadow.

Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Ibid.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.

Ibid.

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. 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!

Ibid.

Man delights not me: no, nor woman neither.

Ibid.

There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.

I know a hawk from a handsaw.

Ibid.

Ibid.

O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst

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The play, I remember, pleased not the million; 't was caviare to the general.

Ibid.

They are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time: after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.

Ibid.

Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,

That he should weep for her?

Ibid

Ibid

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