Betrayal and Disappointment

A habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.

The infernal serpent; he it was, whose guile, Stirr’d up with envy and revenge, deceiv’d The mother of mankind.

When lovely woman stoops to folly, 5 And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy? What art can wash her guilt away?

We that had loved him so, followed him, honored him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye, Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, Made him our pattern to live and to die!

Not with a Club, the Heart is broken Nor with a Stone— A Whip so small you could not see it I’ve known To lash the Magic Creature Till it fell.

Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.

How happy could I be with either,

Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it.

If you begin by sacrificing yourself to those you love, you will end by hating those to whom you have sacrificed yourself.

Oh, what a tangled web do parents weave when they think that their children are naive.

A soul that knows it is loved but does not itself love betrays its sediment: what is at bottom comes up." Epigrams and Interludes, Section 79

Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.

I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better.

The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.

O my prophetic soul! My uncle!

My near’st and dearest enemy.

This was the most unkindest cut of all.

You shall see in him The triple pillar of the world transform’d Into a strumpet’s fool.

In friendship false, implacable in hate, Resolved to ruin or to rule the state.

Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne’er consent”—consented.

And many a poor man that has roved, Loved and thought himself beloved, From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.

A little still she strove, and much repented,

Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!