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Classy
Metzger Meister
It Gets Worsebefore it gets any better.Registered User regular
It Gets Worsebefore it gets any better.Registered User regular
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Metzger Meister on
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Posts
You just compared Hamlet... arguably William Shakespeare's greatest work...
to Linkin Park.
Linkin Park seems like a bunch of whiny douches.
Comparison is apt.
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His uncle killed his dad and fucked his mom. I'd say theres some cause for being a little emotional.
Wait.
Seriously dudes.
Druhim, post a picture of an otter?
Specifically, that retarded otter?
NO WAY.
You wanna quote Hamlet? You wanna be like Hamlet? You know what Hamlet did?
Yeah, go be like Hamlet.
And some good friends.
Dude was a whiny, depressed fucker.
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I laughed way too hard at that....now I'll probably go to hell. And I'm in the bus with you fags.
No you won't.
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The noble Brutus has told you he was ambitious,
And if it were so, twas a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it!
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest
(for Brutus is an honorable man)
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me,
But Brutus says he was ambitious,
And Brutus is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor hath cried, Caesar hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
But Brutus says he was ambitious,
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal I did thrice present to him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse.
Was this ambition?!
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,
And sure, he is an honorable man.
I come here, not to speak what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
Oh, judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.
Bear with me.
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must wait till it come back to me.
I'm going mostly off of memory here, so I probably got some of that wrong.
... The Geek wins again.
the origin of furries?