With this there grows
In my most ill-composed affection such
A stanchless avarice that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
Desire his jewels and this other’s house.
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more, that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
William Shakespeare, Macbeth
It sometimes feels to me that the whole of philosophy is but a meditation on Shakespeare. - Emmanuel Levinas
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