As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
William ShakespeareRead
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
Interpretation
Neglect and negative actions lead to greater problems than what may seem benign.
This quote by Shakespeare highlights the idea that untreated issues or negative behaviors can worsen over time, producing even more unpleasant consequences than the initial problems themselves. It serves as a reminder that it is essential to address issues head-on rather than allowing them to fester and grow into greater challenges.
In practice
In a motivational speech about addressing personal challenges.
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people.
Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
I used to think I had no will to power. Now I perceive that I vented it on thoughts, rather than people. Conquering an unknown province of knowledge. Getting the better of a problem. Forcing ideas to associate or come apart. Bullying recalcitrant words to assume a certain pattern. All the fun of being a dictator without any risks and responsibilities.
Let each hour of the day have its allotted duty, and cultivate that power of concentration which grows with its exercise.
At 11, I could say ‘I am sodium’ (Element 11), and now at 79, I am gold.
Many people think of perfectionism as striving to be your best, but it is not about self-improvement; it's about earning approval and acceptance.
Laughter is timeless. Imagination has no age. And dreams are forever.
That was what her parents did not understand—and had never understood—about stories. Liza told herself storied as though she was weaving and knotting an endless rope. Then, no matter how dark or terrible the pit she found herself in, she could pull herself out, inch by inch and hand over hand, on the long rope of stories.
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