For the record, I am not an anarchist; I simply have a deep love of quotes and like to look up their origins. My research often reveals that favorite sayings are frequently misattributed or heavily paraphrased.
Read More »
Tag: William Shakespeare
Mirrors of Moscow: Nikolai Lenin
Mirrors of Moscow: Nikolai Lenin
LENIN became an active revolutionist through the spiritual motives that have moved all great reformers — not because he himself was hungry and an outcast, but because he could not stand by unmoved in a world where other men were hungry and outcast. Such characters are predestined internationalists; the very quality that lifts them above materialism places them above borders and points of geography; they strive for the universal good. Lenin believes that the only thing worth living for is the next generation. Communism is his formula for saving the next generation from the injustices and inequalities of the present.
Read More »
Love Me or Hate Me
I came across this quote on one of my Pinterest boards, but it was attributed to Shakespeare. I was reminded of Lady Sovereign’s song “Love Me or Hate Me.” It was once one of my favorites.
Happiness Is For Ordinary People
Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness to swiftly flies. Thought would destroy their paradise, No more; where ignorance is bliss, ‘Tis folly to be wise. – Thomas Gray
Repost: All the world’s a stage
All the world’s a stage,
William Shakespeare
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Hoisted on His Own Petard: Biden’s Hidden Classified Documents Set to Expose U.S. Instigation of 2014 Ukraine Coup
As I write, four days after it was revealed that classified documents had been found in the former personal office of President Joseph Biden when he was Barack Obama’s Vice President in charge of the 2014 U.S.-backed fascist-led coup in Ukraine, no one has revealed who found the secret documents, or others that were “discovered” soon after. No one has reported their contents, although a combination of government agencies, now in possession of the documents, including the keepers of the National Archives and Records Administration, the FBI and no doubt Republicans who today control the House of Representatives, will sooner or latter reveal whether they are deemed useful to bring charges against Biden or, as The Times reports, his drug-addicted, most likely corrupt, rich boy son Hunter.
Hoisted on His Own Petard: Biden’s Hidden Classified Documents Set to Expose U.S. Instigation of 2014 Ukraine Coup
To be honest, I’m not holding my breath for this to happen. “Ukrainegate” didn’t expose it because it would have revealed that both Republicans and Democrats were complicit!
Chris Hedges: America’s Theater of the Absurd
The 15 rounds of voting it took to install Kevin McCarthy as Speaker of the House is part of the carnival of folly that passes for politics.
Chris Hedges: America’s Theater of the Absurd
All The World’s A Stage – Poem by William Shakespeare
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
William Shakespeare
Ms. Cat’s Chronicles 
You must be logged in to post a comment.