#spear

But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#shakespeare #men

Any good piece of material like Shakespeare ought to be open to reinterpretation. ↗

— Denzel Washington

#good #like #material #open #ought

Nobody's ever called me Sir Richard. Occasionally in America, I hear people saying Sir Richard and think there's some Shakespearean play taking place. But nowhere else anyway. ↗

— Richard Branson

#anyway #called #else #ever #hear

I did about 2000 covers altogether, for all sorts of books - from Shakespeare to James Bond - and I always had the idea that I must give 100%, no matter who the author was. ↗

— Dick Bruna

#altogether #always #author #bond #books

Prior to Wordsworth, humor was an essential part of poetry. I mean, they don't call them Shakespeare comedies for nothing. ↗

— William Collins

#comedies #essential #humor #i #mean

... All who have brought about a state of sex-consciousness are to blame, and it is they who drive me, when I want to stretch my faculties on a book, to seek it in that happy age ... when the writer used both sides of his mind [the male and female sides of his mind] equally. One must turn back to Shakespeare then, for Shakespeare was androgynous; and so were Keats and Sterne and Cowper and Lamb and Coleridge. Shelley perhaps was sexless. Milton and Ben Jonson had a dash too much of the male in them. So had Wordsworth and Tolstoy. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#keats #mind #shakespeare #writing #age

I think Shakespeare had a lot to contribute with his understanding of the human condition. ↗

— Sharon Gless

#contribute #had #his #human #human condition

We have cut the text, but what remains are Shakespeare's words. ↗

— Edward Hall

#remains #shakespeare #text #words

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

In prison, inmates sometimes use Cheetos and grape juice as makeup. I wouldn't use that beauty regimen around Britney Spears - she might lick your face off! ↗

— Joel McHale

#beauty #britney #britney spears #face #grape