As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
William ShakespeareRead
Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
Interpretation
The quote questions one's status and value in society, distinguishing between the nobility of an officer and the commonness of the populace.
In this quote by Shakespeare, the speaker probes the identity and societal role of the addressed person, juxtaposing the esteemed position of an officer against the more ordinary nature of common folk. This reflection speaks to broader themes of class, identity, and the intrinsic value of individuals in society.
In practice
During a discussion on class in a literature class, one could use this quote to highlight Shakespeare's exploration of social status.
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people.
Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
We are persons of quality, I assure you, and women of fashion, and come to see and to be seen.
works of art feel towards human beings exactly as we do towards ghosts. The transparency of spectres, the diffuseness in space which lets them drift through doors and walls, and their smell of death, disgust us not more than we disgust works of art by our meaninglessness, our diffuseness in time which lets us drift through three score years and ten without a quarter as much significance as a picture establishes instantaneously.
Every author in some way portrays himself in his works, even if it be against his will.
The main thing to understand is that we are imprisoned in some kind of work of art.
I don't force it. If you don't have an idea and you don't hear anything going over and over in your head, don't sit down and try to write a song. You know, go mow the lawn...My songs speak for themselves.
It's not that he lacked poetry. But his poetry was of the body, not the mind. He spoke it in the way he moved, the way he held a hammer, rowed a boat, built a fire. I, on the other hand, was like a brain in a box, a beating heart in a coal scuttle.
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