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
That strain again! It had a dying fall: _x000D_ _x000D_ O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound _x000D_ _x000D_ That breathes upon a bank of violets, _x000D_ _x000D_ Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: _x000D_ _x000D_ 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the fleeting nature of beauty and the bittersweet experience of loss.
In this quote, Shakespeare uses the metaphor of a fading sound to express the transient quality of beauty and joy. The comparison to a sweet sound that was once vibrant but has now diminished highlights how experiences can lose their luster over time, evoking a sense of nostalgia and the inevitability of change in our perceptions and emotions.
In practice
During a speech about the transient nature of life...
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.
I don't have a therapist, so I use me as my own therapist when I'm making the music.
Anxious, inexperienced writers obey rules. Rebellious, unschooled writers break rules. Artists master the form.
Little events, ordinary things, smashed and reconstituted. Suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
When I perform, I simply follow the music, and my heart; everything comes from me in a very natural way - it's not a show; and I believe in this way, it also touches the hearts of those in the audience.
You write differently in each book. It may appear to be similar to readers, but you're a different writer in each book because you haven't approached that subject before. And every subject brings out a different prose strain in you. Fundamentally, yes, you're contained as one writer. But you have various voices. Like a good actor.
The ballet world is so competitive, and for no reason. It's not a sport. It's an art. There's no winner.
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