Life’s but a walking shadow
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.
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- All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players
- Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
- I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
- How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
- If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottage princes’ palaces.
- Life every man holds dear; but the dear man holds honor far more precious dear than life.
- And this, our life, exempt from public haunt
- Listen to many, speak to a few.
- If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul.
- I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
- We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing
- Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.