Shakespeare Meme
Sep. 22nd, 2005 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mari4212Saw this one on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mamadeb's journal, and thought I'd continue it.
When you see a Shakespeare quote on lj, post a quote of your own.
Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
This is my absolute favorite of Shakespeare's sonnets. I love it because the woman is not perfect. She has faults, and the narrator loves her for who she is, not an idealized version of her. Someday, I want a man to love me like that.
mamadeb's journal, and thought I'd continue it.When you see a Shakespeare quote on lj, post a quote of your own.
Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
This is my absolute favorite of Shakespeare's sonnets. I love it because the woman is not perfect. She has faults, and the narrator loves her for who she is, not an idealized version of her. Someday, I want a man to love me like that.
