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Sultan Melodi
https://www.goodreads.com/melsaghn
to-read
(1396)
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read (102)
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currently-reading (11)
read (102)
did-not-finish (0)
read-as-a-child (31)
gave-up-on (4)
audio-books (1)
in-my-library (485)
in-turkish (172)
translated-to-turkish (138)
books-in-series (126)
fuar-ganimetleri
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klasikler (45)
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türk-klasikleri (19)
modern-classics (14)
house-of-night (13)
penguin-little-black-classics (73)
klasikler (45)
to-buy (42)
türk-edebiyatı (30)
iş-bankası-modern-klasikler-dizisi (25)
made-into-movies (21)
chick-lit (20)
türk-klasikleri (19)
modern-classics (14)
house-of-night (13)
Sultan Melodi
is currently reading
by Jane Austen
bookshelves:
currently-reading,
british-classics,
british-literature,
in-my-library,
klasikler,
made-into-movies,
romance,
translated-to-turkish
“To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd!”
― Hamlet
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd!”
― Hamlet
“I know there’s evil in the world, and there always has been. But you don’t need to believe in Satan or demons to explain it. Human beings are perfectly capable of evil all by themselves.”
― The Mephisto Club
― The Mephisto Club
“We are all hypocrites. We cannot see ourselves or judge ourselves the way we see and judge others.”
― Battles in the Desert & Other Stories
― Battles in the Desert & Other Stories
“I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.”
― A Room of One’s Own
― A Room of One’s Own
“Make me immortal with a kiss.”
― Doctor Faustus and Other Plays
― Doctor Faustus and Other Plays
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Sultan Melodi’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Sultan Melodi’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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