Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.
Now to seem to affect the malice and
displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes- to
flatter them for their love.
I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people.
What tedious homily of love have
you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried 'Have
patience, good people.
For that he has-
As much as in him lies- from time to time
Envied against the people, seeking means
To pluck away their power; as now at last
Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
That do distribute it- in the name o' th' people,
And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
Ev'n from this instant, banish him our city,
In peril of precipitation
From off the rock Tarpeian, never more
To enter our Rome gates.
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love
First, her father slain;
Next, Your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; Poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair-judgment,
Without the which we are Pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as such containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France;
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
Feeds on his wonder, keep, himself in clouds,
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick Our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
People usually are the happiest at home.
Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.
Faith, there have been many great men that have
flatter'd the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many
that they have loved, they know not wherefore; so that, if they
love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground.
Look, how the world's poor people are amazed
At apparitions, signs, and prodigies,
Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed,
Infusing them with dreadful prophecies;
So she at these sad signs draws up her breath
And sighing it again, exclaims on Death.
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,
My soul the father; and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world,
In humours like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented.
There have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.
It is a part
That I shall blush in acting, and might well
Be taken from the people.
That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud and
loves not the common people.
More William Shakespeare Quotations (Based on Topics)
Love - Man - Mind - Kings & Queens - World - Time - Life - God - Friendship - Death & Dying - Belief & Faith - Heaven - War & Peace - Fairness - Fool - Speaking - Night - Fear - Soul - View All William Shakespeare Quotations
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