#hamlet

I'm not in the advertising business, but I think it would be very nice if people went to see the film Hamlet, because it was made with love and integrity. ↗

— Julie Christie

#because #business #film #hamlet #i

I would love to be remembered as one of the greatest Lears or Hamlets. ↗

— Roger Moore

#hamlets #i #love #remembered #would

If I ever play Hamlet, it'll be in a dress! ↗

— Matt Lucas

#ever #hamlet #i #play

Hamlet is a little daunting. ↗

— Kyle MacLachlan

#hamlet #little

I started to realise that it wasn't for me. Perhaps I didn't have to give my Hamlet before I died, that the world might be an OK place without my Hamlet, in fact. ↗

— Eric McCormack

#died #fact #give #hamlet #i

Hamlet is an astonishing intelligence. ↗

— Ben Kingsley

#hamlet #intelligence

It is something to have gazed on the constellated white, felt it running from the eyes and the pores: the salt of love. It is something to have whispered wild thank-yous in the only ways we know how. ↗

— Bryana Johnson

#free-verse #hamlet #poetry-life #shakespeare #the-quintessence-of-dust

More grief to hide than hate to utter love. Polonius, Hamlet. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#polonius #shakespeare #love

He was digging in his garden--digging, too, in his own mind, laboriously turning up the substance of his thought. Death--and he drove in his spade once, and again, and yet again. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools they way to dusty death. A convincing thunder rumbled through the words. He lifted another spadeful of earth. Why had Linda died? Why had she been allowed to become gradually less than human and at last... He shuddered. A good kissing carrion. He planted his foot on his spade and stamped it fiercely into the tough ground. As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kills us for their sport. Thunder again; words that proclaimed themselves true--truer somehow than truth itself. And yet that same Gloucester had called them ever-gentle gods. Besides, thy best of rest is sleep, and that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st thy death which is no more. No more than sleep. Sleep. Perchance to dream. His spade struck against a stone; he stooped to pick it up. For in that sleep of death, what dreams...? ↗

— Aldous Huxley

#hamlet #shakespeare #death

Ivanov: No, my clever young thing, it's not a question of romance. I say as before God that I will endure everything - depression and mental illness and ruin and the loss of my wife and premature old age and loneliness - but I cannot tolerate, cannot endure being ridiculous in my own eyes. I'm dying of shame at the thought that I, a healthy, strong man, have turned into some sort of Hamlet or Manfred, some sort of 'superfluous man'... devil knows precisely what! There are pitiful people who are flattered by being called Hamlet or superfluous men, but for me it's a disgrace! It stirs up my pride, I'm overcome by shame and I suffer... ↗

— Anton Chekhov

#loneliness #shame #age