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
Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
Interpretation
The quote questions reality and consciousness, suggesting that our perceptions may be illusory.
In this quote, Shakespeare reflects on the nature of reality and awareness, pondering whether we are truly awake to the truth of our existence or simply dreaming through life. It invites deep consideration of self-awareness, the quest for knowledge, and the often blurred lines between dreams and reality, suggesting that our understanding may be limited or distorted.
In practice
During a philosophical discussion on the nature of consciousness.
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 believe there is such a thing as 'moderate Islam.' I think it's better to talk about degrees of belief and degrees of practice.
You know, they've got these chocolate assortments, and you like some but you don't like others? And you eat all the ones you like, and the only ones left are the ones you don't like as much? I always think about that when something painful comes up. Now I just have to polish these off, and everything'll be OK. Life is a box of chocolates. I suppose you could call it a philosophy.
There is a solitude, which each and every one of us has always carried with him, more inaccessible than the ice-cold mountains, more profound than the midnight sea; the solitude of self. Our inner being, which we call ourself, no eye nor touch of man or angel has ever pierced.
Seems to me that the institutions that function in this country are clearly racist, and that they're built upon racism.
The more we know of God, the more unreservedly we will trust him; the greater our progress in theology, the simpler and more child-like will be our faith
And I'm not sure why I'm infatuated with death,_x000D_ _x000D_ My imagination is surely an aggravation of threats..._x000D_ _x000D_ Maybe cause I'm a dreamer, and sleep is the cousin of death,_x000D_ _x000D_ Really stuck in the scheme of wondering when I'mma rest.
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