 |
| |
|
|
Comrade Tassadar
|
|
From the Rossiya:
quote:
Which anthema is the besta? quote:
Rossiya svyaschennaya nasha dyerzhava
Rossiya lyubimaya nasha strana
Moguchaya volya vyelikaya slava
Tvoyo dostoyan'ye na vsya vryemyena!
Slav'sya Otechestvo, nashe svobodnoye
Bratskikh narodov soyuz vyekovoy
Predkami dannaya mudrost' narodnaya
Slav'sya strana my gordimsya toboy!
Ot yuzhnykh morey do polyarnogo kraya
Raskinulis' nashi lesa i polya
Odna ty na svete odna ty takaya
Khranimaya bogom rodnaya zyemlya!
Slav'sya Otechestvo, nashe svobodnoye
Bratskikh narodov soyuz vyekovoy
Predkami dannaya mudrost' narodnaya
Slav'sya strana my gordimsya toboy!
Shirokiy prostor dlya mechty i dlya zhizni
Gryaduschiye nam otkryvayut goda
Nam silu dayot nasha vernost' Otchiznye
Tak bylo, tak yest' i tak budet vsyegda!
Slav'sya Otechestvo, nashe svobodnoye
Bratskikh narodov soyuz vyekovoy
Predkami dannaya mudrost' narodnaya
Slav'sya strana my gordimsya toboy! |
Ah yes, that is the besta anthema. |
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Felch
|
 |
Germantown, Maryland
Sep 2001
time: 00:26
|
|
quote:
What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin.
If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
God’s will! I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honor
Is one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the Feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors
And say, “Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
[And say, “These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.”]
Old men forget, yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What fears he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother. Be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
|
I had to read that in 7th, 10th, and 12th grades. Teachers loved it.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
jsorense
|
|
Alta California, USA
Dec 1999
time: 05:26
|
|
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shied, Lay on, Macduff,
And damned be him that first cries 'Hold, enough!'
[exit fighting. alarms. Re-enter fighting, and Macbeth slain.]
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Ben Kenobi
|
 |
McGregornobi!
Oct 2002
time: 21:26
|
|
Not my first post...
For others, I'm just googling as fast as needed.
It's a challenge.
Loin:
She should have died hereafter,
There would have been time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty place from day to day,
From the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools,
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle,
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
'Tis a tale as told by an idiot,
Full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
cinch
|
|
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Jul 2002
time: 22:26
|
|
"GLOUCESTER:
But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
though this knave came something saucily into the
world before he was sent for, yet was his mother
fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this
noble gentleman, Edmund?"
Man, Gloucester was a bastard, eh?
"CORDELIA:
Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all."
"Fool:
Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the
seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.
KING LEAR:
Because they are not eight?
Fool:
Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool."
I love King Lear.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Tiamat
|
 |
.....and George's daughter
Mar 2000
time: 05:26
|
|
Well of course the obvious. MacBeth ~ Bubble bubble toil and trouble.
Several from Romeo and Juliet ~
~O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
~But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
~But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
~If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Ben Kenobi
|
|
McGregornobi!
Oct 2002
time: 21:26
|
|
Adam Smith:
Unless you are more specific, I can't pick the quote.
My fave line from Merchant of Venice:
"He hath disgraced me, and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you ***** us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
-Shylock
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Ben Kenobi
|
|
McGregornobi!
Oct 2002
time: 21:26
|
|
Adam Smith, again, from Henry V:
 ***** me do I not bleed? Even Shakespeare gets censored!
BATES
Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know
enough, if we know we are the kings subjects: if
his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes
the crime of it out of us.
WILLIAMS
But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath
a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and
arms and heads, chopped off in battle, shall join
together at the latter day and cry all 'We died at
such a place;' some swearing, some crying for a
surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind
them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their
children rawly left. I am afeard there are few die
well that die in a battle; for how can they
charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their
argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it
will be a black matter for the king that led them to
it; whom to disobey were against all proportion of
subjection.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Guynemer
|
|
Remember, you can ***** your finger, but don't finger your *****.
I'm quite partial to the one in my sig, natch. It would take hours to list all my favorites... I've read nearly all of the plays, I'd like to buy the old video collection that the RSC made of all of 'em back in the 70s.
|
|
| |
All times are GMT. The time now is 05:26.
Apolyton Time is 00:26. |
top of page
|
| archivepost |
|
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
Smilies are ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|
06-03-2003 08:40
|