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- Group:
- LHTEC
- Active Posts:
- 197 (0.03 per day)
- Most Active In:
- Toll the Hounds (92 posts)
- Joined:
- 29-December 08
- Profile Views:
- 12,166
- Last Active:
- Apr 27 2010 09:57 PM
- Currently:
- Offline
My Information
- Member Title:
- Warrior of High House Abyss
- Age:
- 33 years old
- Birthday:
- November 15, 1991
Contact Information
- E-mail:
- Click here to e-mail me
- Website URL:
- http://
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Current Reputation
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Post
Latest Visitors
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Tsundoku
15 Nov 2024 - 08:29 -
Coco with mar...
26 Mar 2010 - 21:39 -
Giles
26 Mar 2010 - 19:35 -
Bauchelain th...
15 Nov 2009 - 15:37 -
beru
08 Mar 2009 - 01:28
About Me
To be or not to be, that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Innocence is only a virtue, lass, when it is temporary.
Cotillion to Apsalar, "House of Chains"
Cotillion to Apsalar, "House of Chains"
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Comments
Tsundoku
15 Nov 2024 - 08:29Tsundoku
14 Nov 2023 - 19:32Tsundoku
14 Nov 2022 - 20:13