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rinueHam. Denmark's a prison.
Ros. Then is the world one!
Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons -- Denmark being one o' the worst.
I have found a way to survive.
Ros. We think not so, my lord.
Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you -- for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me, it is a prison.
It's perfect in its simplicity -- knowing that I take on the characteristics of the most recent movie I've watched, I'm running Fight Club on a perpetual loop.
Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.
I ate a hamburger yesterday, a sourdough jack. I plowed my car into a snowbank. It has been 8 days since I last bathed.
Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
I still can't sleep, but it no longer bothers me. I wake up at least three times a night, and one of them is always at three AM. I avoided it last night because I was already awake.
Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition -- for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
Valancy's "crushboy" appears in all of my dreams now. He is always unhelpful. This most likely stems from a deap-seated fear that I will fall in love with whoever Val does. (It cuts both ways.) What can I say -- she has good taste.
Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.
You can tell more about a person by what she wants than what she needs. I can rarely guess what I want, so I take my cues off of others. This is almost always a bad idea; it's an even worse idea when it involves emotion. Although, to be fair, all of my relationships have been with very attractive, very intelligent partners -- even if all of them were dating other people at the time.
Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.
Ham Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.
Ros. Then is the world one!
Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons -- Denmark being one o' the worst.
I have found a way to survive.
Ros. We think not so, my lord.
Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you -- for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me, it is a prison.
It's perfect in its simplicity -- knowing that I take on the characteristics of the most recent movie I've watched, I'm running Fight Club on a perpetual loop.
Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.
I ate a hamburger yesterday, a sourdough jack. I plowed my car into a snowbank. It has been 8 days since I last bathed.
Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
I still can't sleep, but it no longer bothers me. I wake up at least three times a night, and one of them is always at three AM. I avoided it last night because I was already awake.
Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition -- for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
Valancy's "crushboy" appears in all of my dreams now. He is always unhelpful. This most likely stems from a deap-seated fear that I will fall in love with whoever Val does. (It cuts both ways.) What can I say -- she has good taste.
Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.
You can tell more about a person by what she wants than what she needs. I can rarely guess what I want, so I take my cues off of others. This is almost always a bad idea; it's an even worse idea when it involves emotion. Although, to be fair, all of my relationships have been with very attractive, very intelligent partners -- even if all of them were dating other people at the time.
Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.
Ham Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.
