Bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it.
Bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it.
But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor
Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand
And send it to the King: he for the same
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
By heaven, I love thee better than myself,
For I come hither arm'd against myself.
Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die.
But your discretions better can persuade
Than I am able to instruct or teach;
And, therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us still continue peace and love.
There is no wider gulf in the universe than yawns between those on the hither and thither side of vital experience.
A being without an aim in life, or not possessing the requisite concentration of purpose to assist him in resisting temptation, is like a cork floating upon the water, driven hither and thither by every wind that blows.
From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.
Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,
Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out.
Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy
faults,
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.
Why are you running so fast hither and thither
Chasing midges or butterflies?
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
When we have run our passions' heat,
Love hither makes his best retreat:
The gods, that mortal beauty chase,
Still in a tree did end their race;
Apollo hunted Daphne so
Only that she might laurel grow;
And Pan did after Syrinx speed
Not as a nymph, but for a reed.
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories