Sublime

epigram

Things without all remedy / Should be without regard: What’s done is done.

Undoubtedly the very tedium and ennui which presume to have exhausted the variety and the joys of life are as old as Adam.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by a

You can’t sensibly inquire whether a whore is witty.

in accordance with William Blake’s principle that “The fool who persists in his folly will become wise,”

To be human is to confuse a satisfying story with a meaningful one, and to mistake life for something huge with two legs.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to plague us; the dark and vicious place where thee he got cost him his eyes,” and Edmund answers--you remember, he's wounded, he's dying--”Thou hast spoken right; 'tis true. The wheel is come full circle; I am here.”