Shakespeare's beauty of thought
"No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make loam, and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?" (Hamlet, act 5, scene 1)
As I was bringing myself down to absolute nothingness because of having nothing to show for in a life already half done, I opened up my little booklet with Shakespeare's Hamlet and my eyes fell upon the lines above. No matter how glorious and famous other people’s deeds might be, everyone dies and becomes part of the same dirt. It's an excellent antidote for human pride, reflecting both on our tendency to overestimate our own importance and the ultimate futility of worldly things in face of death.
As I was bringing myself down to absolute nothingness because of having nothing to show for in a life already half done, I opened up my little booklet with Shakespeare's Hamlet and my eyes fell upon the lines above. No matter how glorious and famous other people’s deeds might be, everyone dies and becomes part of the same dirt. It's an excellent antidote for human pride, reflecting both on our tendency to overestimate our own importance and the ultimate futility of worldly things in face of death.
