Sketch-blog of an alien-cat-sorcerer.

Abstract Comics

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some
mother,
For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember’d not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.


Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind

Everyone can master a grief but he that has it


Men of few words are the best men

The course of true love never did run smooth


Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under ‘t.

I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself, and falls on the other.


If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it; he died as one that had been studied in his death to throw away the dearest thing he owed, as ‘t were a careless trifle


All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand

When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly ‘s done,
When the battle ‘s lost and won


A man can die but once

I do now remember the poor creature, small beer


He hath eaten me out of house and home

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown


Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind as man’s ingratitude

True is it that we have seen better days


Can one desire too much of a good thing?

A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.


SET HONOR IN ONE EYE AND DEATH I’ THE OTHER, AND I WILL LOOK ON BOTH INDIFFERENTLY.


WHAT’S IN A NAME? THAT WHICH WE CALL A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD SMELL AS SWEET.

FOR STONY LIMITS CANNOT HOLD LOVE OUT.


WE BURN DAYLIGHT.

 

ROMEO: LADY, BY YONDER BLESSED MOON I SWEAR

THAT TIPS WITH SILVER ALL THES FRUIT-TREE TOPS –

JULIET: O! SWEAR NOT BY THE MOON, THE INCONSTANT MOON,

THAT MONTHLY CHANGES IN HER CIRCLED ORB,

LEST THAT THY LOVE PROVE LIKEWISE VARIABLE.


I WILL MAKE THEE THINK THY SWAN A CROW.

Please click to enlarge.

TRUE, I TALK OF DREAMS,

WHICH ARE THE CHILDREN OF AN IDLE BRAIN,

BEGOT OF NOTHING BUT VAIN FANTASY.


WELL ROARED, LION.

THIS PASSION, AND THE DEATH OF A DEAR FRIEND,

WOULD GO NEAR TO MAKE A MAN LOOK SAD.


I HAVE AN EXPOSITION OF SLEEP COME UPON ME.

Please click to enlarge.

MY OBERON! WHAT VISIONS HAVE I SEEN!

METHOUGHTS I WAS ENAMOR’D OF AN ASS.


Just Another Abstract Comic:

Unbidden guests

Are often most welcomest when they are gone.