Society and the World

O! now, forever Farewell the tranquil mind; farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove’s dread clamors counterfeit, Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone!

But men are men; the best sometimes forget.

Framed to make women false.

The robb’d that smiles steals something from the thief.

I do perceive here a divided duty.

And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.

Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth ’scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach.

The bloody book of law You shall yourself read in the bitter letter After your own sense.

Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

The wealthy curled darlings of our nation.

The bookish theoric.

Horribly stuff’d with epithets of war.

They say best men are molded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad.

Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure, Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.

Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure, Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.

He, who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe.

The cunning livery of hell.

But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep.

That in the captain’s but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

That in the captain’s but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

O! it is excellent To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.

O! it is excellent To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?