Sunset tripper wrote:One major problem with Caberfeidhs pitch in the camping photo and it's not the drizzly weather......... it's that the kings house has been demolished.
Stir not the cup of bitterness, for worse lies in the dregs... O cruel fate, that yon fair tavern, yon travelers' rest so often enjoyed and used with no thought to what the future might hold in store; who wouldst e'en imagine a world without it, , might as such imagine a world with neither sun nor moon. I have of late, wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. The Kingshouse ~ a fellow of infinite jest! He hath borne me upon his back a thousand times! 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;
Or as we might put it more succinctly; "It's a scunner."
![Kingshouse in winter 09#2.jpg]()
- The Lion in Winter
