bptlit.space

By indirections find directions out

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,

O that this too too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,

Let us impart what we have seen to-night / Unto young Hamlet…

… the play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.

… the play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.