Author has written 1 story for Edward Scissorhands.
Well, Im a bit of a Hamlet fanatic... Or Shakespeare fanatic I suppose you could say. I do believe thats why my works come out so "poem like", as many have told me before; but you will never see me writing a fanfiction for Shakespeare, I could never do him justice. Although, I have written my own original sonnet. Anyway, please read some of my stories and leave a review or two, they are always helpful and greatly appreciated.
And with that, here is a collection of some of my favorite quotes and poems... enjoy...
"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. " -Hamlet
Ophelia by Rimbaud
Where the stars sleep in the calm black stream,
Like some great lily, pale Ophelia floats,
Slowly floats, wound in her veils like a dream.
- Half heard in the woods, halloos from distant throats.
A thousand years has sad Ophelia gone
Glimmering on the water, a phantom fair;
A thousand years her soft distracted song
Has waked the answering evening air.
The wind kisses her breasts and shakes
Her long veils lying softly on the stream;
The shivering willows weep upon her cheeks;
Across her dreaming brows the rushes lean.
The wrinkled water lilies round her sigh;
And once she wakes a nest of sleeping things
And hears the tiny sound of frightened wings;
Mysterious music falls from the starry sky.
O pale Ophelia, beautiful as snow!
Yes, die, child, die, and drift away to sea!
For from the peaks of Norway cold winds blow
And whisper low of bitter liberty;
For a breath that moved your long heavy hair
Brought strange sounds to your wandering thoughts;
Your heart heard Nature singing everywhere,
In the sighs of trees and the whispering of night.
For the voice of the seas, endless and immense,
Breaks your young breast, too human and too sweet;
For on an April morning a pale young prince,
Poor lunatic, sat wordless at your feet!
Sky! Love! Liberty! What a dream, poor young
Thing! You sank before him, snow before fire,
Your own great vision strangling your tongue,
Infinity flaring in your blue eye!
And the poet says that by starlight you came
To pick the flowers you loved so much, at night,
And he saw, wound in her veils like a dream,
Like some great lily, pale Ophelia float.
There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
that shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up;
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes,
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my tears; but yet
It is our trick, nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will. - Rimbaud
"Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go." - Hamlet
"I must be cruel, only to be kind." - Hamlet
"I loved Ophelia: Forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum." - Hamlet
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions" - Hamlet
"Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day."- Hamlet
"There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. " - Hamlet
"There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all." - Hamlet
"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man. " - Hamlet
"A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute." - Hamlet
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." - Hamlet
"This is the very ecstasy of love. " - Hamlet
"Brevity is the soul of wit. " - Hamlet
"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love." - Hamlet
"Polonius: My honorable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.
Hamlet: You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life." - Hamlet
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - Hamlet
"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go. " - Hamlet
"The course of true love never did run smooth." A Midsummer Nights Dream
"Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere." - A Midsummer Nights Dream
"O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she be but little, she is fierce." -A Midsummer Nights Dream
"Cupid is a knavish lad,
Thus to make poor females mad." - A Midsummer Nights Dream
"If you were civil and knew courtesy you would not do me thus much injury! Can you not hate me, as I know you do, but you must join in souls to mock me to!"
"My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
Methought I was enamoured of an ass. " - Story of my life... I mean, A Midsummer Nights Dream..
Dont you feel intelligable now?... Msg me if any of those quotes are slightly off. My memory can become a bit hazy at times.