Act I Scene III

LORD POLONIUS

Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! And these few precepts in thy memory see thou character.

Give thy thoughts no tongue, nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; but do not dull thy palm with entertainment of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade.

Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, but not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; for the apparel oft proclaims the man, and they in France of the best rank and station are of a most select and generous chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine ownself be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!

Fatal Visions

Is this a dagger I see before me, is there some point to the lunacy, how comes the feel of this blade warming my senses to deliver the wishes of men of mice. What thoughts you have, that you would be so comfort to know my demise.

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee; I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Are you not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or are you but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see you now and yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.

Dare you I do, I trace the edge alone against the Sternum, poignant This dagger it taunts my senses. In it I rage, thrust outward- as I hold emplace the blade that sneered at me. I wait for the breath of mine daemon to escape. Release thee life, release thou anguish, here in my mind thee appears. You hold grasping my hand, clinching your fist, gasping for Air sweet or foul.

It is done, On this another day a battle won. Left with my delusion the future shows me a WAR that’s won. Dreams of time when all this I see are behind me, but never really over, never really gone.

The Ghost will keep company with me.

Come what Come may

Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
These past days have been filled with rising seas, thunderous clouds, and battering winds. My breath taken away, heart felt weaken.
Finding that I don’t have the strength to hate, and yet I must.

Burning in me the truth of matters, whilst thieves and cheats of cons lay waist to my sanity. Tortured are my thoughts, raging in mine eye of the wrongs I endure, how evil prevails upon this land. The willingness of mankind to corrupt and be corrupt.

Due onto others as due onto you. Ney they say; disdained for thee neighbour breaking the very commandments they are sworn to protect against enemies both forgein and domestic.

Who would have fathomed our protectors to be our worst enemy.