Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? ... It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes
And then
Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the [thirteen] to have had so much blood in [them].
Alternatively,
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
And then his man Susan Rice:
The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Who knew we were trapped in a play, with a critical player in his last scene, Is second childishness and mere oblivion.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
ReplyDeleteThe handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
...
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes
And then
Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why,
then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my
lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we
fear who knows it, when none can call our power to
account?--Yet who would have thought the [thirteen]
to have had so much blood in [them].
Alternatively,
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
And then his man Susan Rice:
The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Who knew we were trapped in a play, with a critical player in his last scene, Is second childishness and mere oblivion.
Eric Hines