English Playwright, Philosopher and Poet (1564 — 1616)
Dreams
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream
Don’t be afraid of the space between your dreams and reality. If you can dream it, you can also make it so.
Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
Makes the night morning and the noontide night.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on.
Sleep is akin to a prevue of death.
Brief as the lightning in the collied night;
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and Earth,
And ere a man hath power to say “Behold!”
The jaws of darkness do devour it up.
So quick bright things come to confusion.
Some say every night is a night of dreams.
Others assure us that not all nights are of dreams, only summer nights.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter.
What is important is not the night itself but the dreams.
Dreams that one can always dream, everywhere, in all seasons, asleep or awake.
Words, Silence
What’s in a name? A rose with any other name would smell as sweet.
True sentiments are manifest by action, not by words.
Do not reveal your thoughts nor act in haste.
Promises are like babies: easy to make, hard to deliver.
‘Have more than you show,Speak less than you know.
Some words may hide others.
Words without affection, never reach the ears of God.
Words are not actions.
…I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries…
Being of no power to make his wishes good:
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
For every word.
When the mouth is unable to say what the heart feels, it is best to let the mouth feel what the heart says. The words are full of falsity or art, the look is the language of the heart.
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