11 Quotes Commonly Misattributed To Shakespeare

1. “When I saw you I fell in love and you smiled because you knew.”

 

Where it's actually from: An 1893 Italian opera, Falstaff, with a libretto by Arrigo Boito. The opera itself is based on The Merry Wives Of Windsor, written by the Bard himself, but the line is not found in the play itself, only in the opera.

Where it’s actually from: An 1893 Italian opera, Falstaff, with a libretto by Arrigo Boito. The opera itself is based on The Merry Wives Of Windsor, written by the Bard himself, but the line is not found in the play itself, only in the opera.

2. “Love is a wonderful terrible thing.”

 

Where it's actually from: Gabriela, Clove, and Cinnamon by Jorge Amado. Also the quote is actually, "Love--the most wonderful and most terrible thing in the world."

Where it’s actually from: Gabriela, Clove, and Cinnamon by Jorge Amado. Also the quote is actually, “Love–the most wonderful and most terrible thing in the world.”

3. “The earth has music for those who listen.”

 

Where it's actually from: The quote is definitively not in any of Shakespeare's written works. It's most commonly attributed to poet and author George Santayana or Oliver Wendall Holmes.

Where it’s actually from: The quote is definitively not in any of Shakespeare’s written works. It’s most commonly attributed to poet and author George Santayana or Oliver Wendall Holmes.

4. “You say you love rain…”

Where it's actually from: A turkish poem titled, I Am Afraid. In addition, umbrellas weren't common in Europe until the 17th century, roughly a 100 years after Shakespeare died.

Where it’s actually from: A turkish poem titled, I Am Afraid. In addition, umbrellas weren’t common in Europe until the 17th century, roughly a 100 years after Shakespeare died.

 

5. “The less you speak of greatness, the more shall I think of it.”

 

Where it's actually from: Sir Francis Bacon to Sir Edward Coke in 1601 during a quarrel in a bar.

Where it’s actually from: Sir Francis Bacon to Sir Edward Coke in 1601 during a quarrel in a bar.

 

6. “So dear I love him that with him/All deaths I could endure/Without him, live on life.”

Where it's actually from: Paradise Lost by John Milton.

Where it’s actually from: Paradise Lost by John Milton.

 

7. “When words fail music speaks.”

Where it's actually from:This quote is paraphrased from Hans Christian Anderson's "What The Moon Saw" (from What The Moon Saw: And Other Tales), roughly two centuries after Shakespeare died. The actual quote is, "when words fail, sounds can often speak."

Where it’s actually from:This quote is paraphrased from Hans Christian Anderson’s “What The Moon Saw” (from What The Moon Saw: And Other Tales), roughly two centuries after Shakespeare died. The actual quote is, “when words fail, sounds can often speak.”

8. “We’re all in the same game; just different levels. Dealing with the same hell; just different devils.”

Where it's actually from: Tumblr staaahp, this is a Jadakiss song.

Where it’s actually from: Tumblr staaahp, this is a Jadakiss song.

 

9. “All glory comes from daring to begin.”

Where it's actually from: "John Brown", a poem by Eugene Fitch Ware.

Where it’s actually from: “John Brown”, a poem by Eugene Fitch Ware.

10. “Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares.”

 

Where it's actually from: The Notebook of Love twitter handle.

Where it’s actually from: The Notebook of Love twitter handle.

 

11. “Expectation is the root of all heartache.”

Where it's actually from: While no one is quite sure where this quote sprang from, it's definitively not in any of Shakespeare's works. The quote does closely resemble, and is commonly said to derive from the Second Noble Truth of Buddhism: desire is the root of all suffering.

Where it’s actually from: While no one is quite sure where this quote sprang from, it’s definitively not in any of Shakespeare’s works. The quote does closely resemble, and is commonly said to derive from the Second Noble Truth of Buddhism: desire is the root of all suffering.

 

The Autumn of our love – Siro Ashun

Mihran Kalaydjian The Autumn of our love – Siro Ashun

Lyrics: Aline Najarian
Music and Arrangement : Joseph Keyrouz
Music and Arrangement : Elias Keyrouz
Record Labels: Paramount Studios

Mino Element Band Members

Aram Kasabian – Lead Guitar
Sevan Manoukian – Drummer
Hratch Panossian – Bass
Samer Khoury – Violin
Tony Amer – Saxophone
Haim Cohen – KeyBoard
Albert Panikian – Trumpet
Nicole Del Sol – Percussion
Dana Debos – Trombone


Mer Siro Ashune (The Autumn of our love)
Do you think the rain’s been drumming on your window all day long?
It’s the words of my repentance, falling down drop by drop.
See them, rolling down the glass and down into the endless brine;
Words that only you can hear in this belated song of mine.

What is this confession now, overdue regret, – for what?
Love has always been a riddle that I never can decode.
It was autumn that was mocking, slapping me with faded leaves,
And the girl that kept on weeping silently among the trees.

Only now I understand: the past shall not be back again.
It’s for sins that I’ve committed that I’m being made to pay.
For that weeping girl, that autumn are the fortune that I’ve lost.
Heedless deeds of wild youth is what I now regret the most.

We all know that happiness can only come a single time.
It then promptly disappears, leaves its business card behind.
We then seek it everywhere, we go on looking all our lives,
But the address on the card is one that no man ever finds.

—————————————-­—————————————-­——

Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use

© 2015 Paramount Studios& Element Band All Rights Reserved

 

love

Mihran Kalaydjian Playing One Akriti (Image)

Mihran Kalaydjian Playing One Akriti (Image)

Mihran Kalaydjian And His Element Band Playing One Akriti (Image)

Song: One Akriti (Image)
Label: Alligator Records
Executive Producer: Elias Khoury
Director: Bedros ZADORIAN
Location: Del Mar, CA

http://www.mihrankalaydjianpiano.com/
https://www.facebook.com/MihranKalayd

Mino Element Band Members

Aram Kasabian – Lead Guitar
Sevan Manoukian – Drummer
Hratch Panossian – Bass
Samer Khoury – Violin
Tony Amer – Saxophone
Haim Cohen – KeyBoard
Albert Panikian – Trumpet
Nicole Del Sol – Percussion
Dana Debos – Trombone

Lyrics:

There are a thousand dreams
In this world to be turned into reality
There are a thousand souls
In this world seeking the way to spirituality

There are a thousand doors
In this world unlocking the most promising creations
There are a thousand roads
In this world leading to desired destinations

There are a thousand hearts
In this world beating for whom they admire
There are a thousand ambitions
In this world keeping ignited the inner fire

But all it takes is One
One dream to give you what you wanted
One soul who reaches the ultimate goal
One door to the future you always wanted
One road to reach the place where you belong
One heart to make you feel loved
One ambition to make you feel strong
Sometimes that one completes you as whole

Mihran Kalaydjian One Akriti (Image)
© 2015 Paramount Studios All Rights Reserved

Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

 

TO MY SON – Mihran Kalaydjian and Charlie Bisharat SPECIAL MELODY

Mihran Kalaydjian and Charlie Bisharat – MY SON

Honor Guest: Violinist: Charlie Bisharat

Recorded: Feb 23, 2015

Record Label: Alligator Records

Charlie Bisharat is a Grammy-winning violinist who has toured and/or recorded with numerous notable artists. He was a member of Shadowfax, who won a Best New Age Performance Grammy in 1988 for Folksongs for a Nuclear Village

A version of the Classical Greek song “Gie mou”My Son”, written by the composer Apostolos Kaldaras and sung originally by Stamatis Kokotas (Greece).

Mino Element Band Members

Aram Kasabian – Lead Guitar
Sevan Manoukian – Drummer
Hratch Panossian – Bass
Samer Khoury – Violin
Tony Amer – Saxophone
Haim Cohen – KeyBoard
Albert Panikian – Trumpet
Nicole Del Sol – Percussion
Dana Debos – Trombone

Lyrics:

My son, it’s my pain unbearable dear
to see you as xerofyllo wind
in life chased turning

My son, did not hear your devious father
drifted and day by day
Being twenty years old and yet grow old

My son, what do you expect, my IP
in a muddy road
you’ll be always like a tree uprooted
without destiny, without sun and sky

My son, my yearning to Reflect
Come home to sweeten your wound
My son, my son, how I hurt

My son, it ‘s my people cruel dear
the lords it ‘merchants of war
and laugh when we tear rolls

My son, do not think anyone my beloved
as though your friends rejoiced, my God
that You ‘ve now fallen so low

Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use

© 2015 Paramount Studios& Element Band All Rights Reserved

Greatest Monday Rambles – One Lovely Blog Award

Please allow me to share my sincerest appreciation and gratitude. Just wanted to let you know that I was  nominated by Nish Pal  for the Monday Rambles – One Lovely Blog Award. I am honored and humbled  Nish Pal receive and accept your award.

Mihran of Mihran Kalaydjian ” Mino Piano Melodies”: Talented artist and man who is never miserly when it comes to encouraging and complimenting other bloggers and artists..a lovely person.

 

http://fabulousnishpal.wordpress.com/2014/11/17/monday-ramble-award/comment-page-1/#comment-928

 

award-2.jpg (218×218)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The purpose of the Award:

Monday is here, the beginning of a new week. Since Monday is all about Keeping It Short and Simple ( my version of KISS) and since this blog is called ‘The Showcase’ guess its time I revealed an award that has been standing proudly on my imaginary blog mantlepiece for a couple of weeks. Its high time I thanked my fellow bloggers who nominated me for the award and so here I go –

 

Nishi, thank you so much for the nomination and kind words. May God Bless you, let your future shine with health, joy and success.

 

Respectfully, Miran

 

 

 

The ELITE Versatile Blogger Award by Incredible Kim Gosselin

 

Please allow me to share my sincerest appreciation and gratitude. Just wanted to let you know that I was  nominated by Kim Gosselin for the  ELITE  Versatile Blogger Award. 

I am honored and humbled  Kim Gosselin receive and accept your award.

The main reason for my accepting my own nomination was to recognize some of the very lovely souls and blogs out there, and share them with others. I completely understand if you don’t resonate with following the guidelines, and/or don’t have the time to do so.

You’re still someone I want to honor! Much love, Kim  http://kimgosselinblog.com/2014/11/22/thank-you-lorrie-bowden/

I had every heartfelt intention of accepting this lovely award long ago.  Within days of receiving it however, my bowl of life began to overflow with commitments.  Lorrie understood, telling me to, “Take my time.”  No matter now many days passed, her kind heart full of love and appreciation was never far from my mind.

I am most grateful to accept this terrific award from Lorrie, a special person to many here at WordPress.  If you haven’t had the chance to get to know her, please visit her beautiful blog at, http://lorriebowden.com/.

Thank you for being part of this wonderful blogging universe, and I’m looking forward to reading your posts!

Kim – I have no words, speechles – May God Bless you

Respectfully;

Miran

 

Incredible One Lovely Blog Award

Just wanted to let you know that I was  nominated by Tania Maria for the One Lovely Blog Award.

I am honored and humbled Tania Maria  to receive and accept your award.

The main reason for my accepting my own nomination was to recognize some of the very lovely souls and blogs out there, and share them with others. I completely understand if you don’t resonate with following the guidelines, and/or don’t have the time to do so.

You’re still someone I want to honor! Much love, Tania http://taniamarieartist.wordpress.com/2014/11/13/one-lovely-blog-award/

Thank you for being part of this wonderful blogging universe, and I’m looking forward to reading your posts!

Marie – I have no words, speechles – I may call you “Princess”

Respectfully;

Miran

 

 

Excellent One Lovely Blog Award

 

Thank you so much  Silver Threading   for nominating me. What a fantastic surprise.  A great big thank you goes out to Silver Threading   for this award. Much appreciated, indeed!!

I am honored and humbled Silver Threading   to receive and accept your award.

The goal is to help give recognition and to also help the new blogger reach more viewers. It also recognizes blogs that are considered to be “lovely” by the fellow-blogger who chose them.

http://silverthreading.com/2014/11/08/blog-boogie-saturday-awards/

 

one-lovely-blog-award

Thank you for being part of this wonderful blogging universe, and I’m looking forward to reading your posts!

 

May God Bless You Always

 

I Had a Brain Tumor

I Had a Brain Tumor

but I’m fine now.

Everything begins somewhere.

A tremor in the left hand, slight muscle weakness, the inability to paint my own fingernails. I accepted these changes as subjects of fascination — idiosyncrasies particular to my body. When I told my mother, she suggested that I incorporate more vitamin C into my diet.

In winter of 2010, the snow piled up against the windows of my garden apartment while I vomited breakfast, then water, and finally a bitter yellow substance for an entire day until I was too weak to move to the bathroom anymore. I fell asleep on the floor wondering whether I would wake up the following day.

How sick do you have to be to call for an ambulance?’ I had texted my roommate who was away on holiday.

After that episode, I began to experience strange throbbing headaches — little lightning storms that I combated by closing my eyes and standing perfectly still until they receded. I lived alone then, an hour into the depths of Brooklyn, in an Italian neighborhood that I reluctantly cherished. I took dance classes five nights a week, unless I was attending a reading or a lecture or some party somewhere. Those were long days, late nights. I lived off coffee and dollar slices of pizza. My fridge held almost nothing but pickles and condiments.

Soon, the headaches joined forces with crippling vertigo. Little spots formed at the edges of my vision. Nausea overwhelmed me in the mornings. I was thin, but that was fashionable.

Once, when the headaches were frequent and fierce, I told my mother that I felt as though someone were pinching the back of my neck and squeezing my brain. I didn’t know it at the time — I wouldn’t find out for months — but I wasn’t wrong.

Near the end of October 2010, there was an early winter storm that swept through New England.  My co-worker, who had been tracking my complaints over the months, escorted me to a nearby clinic.

From there, things progressed quickly. I was given strict instructions to take a cab directly to the hospital. Do not walk, do not get on the train. I nodded dutifully as I continued throwing up into an H&M shopping bag. In the emergency room at Beth Israel, a nurse took me for a CT scan. I had never been in a hospital before. I waited for the results. A concerned attendant peeked through the door at me, then withdrew again. More concerned faces. Bad news, they intoned, without quite saying what was bad. I was admitted, decorated with IVs, and told to wait again. At one point, a young doctor said to me, “That’s quite the goober you’ve got in your noggin.” Goober? That was the first I’d heard of it. He showed me the scans.

When I think of tumors, I think of metaphors of invasion. Something foreign, forceful, and undesired. The growth of darkness where before there was light. The young doctor pointed to the screen and said, “There.” Therewas a shadow at the back of my mind. A sphere lodged against the cerebellum, a presence that was both alien and of myself. Not a tumor yet, but not not a tumor either. To confirm that either way required a series of MRIs.

From the emergency room, I was moved to the neuro step-down unit. That was serious, a friend informed me by text. An older doctor whose glasses sat at the tip of his nose and whose voice was firm but kindly throughout his explanation of the condition hemangioblastoma agreed that it was indeed serious.

At that age, I thought I had things figured out. I thought I was invincible. I could take another Advil. I could push through the headaches, the vertigo, the nausea. Everything was fine, I’d convinced myself, because everything was supposed to be fine. Sickness, tumors, brain surgery: those things happened to other people. The doctor asked to schedule the surgery immediately. I asked for a moment. For twenty minutes straight, I sobbed aloud at the edge of my hospital bed. I don’t want this, I can’t do it, I don’t want this. How did this happen? Why?

Hemangioblastoma are vascular tumors located in the cerebellum, brain stem, or spinal cord. Accounting for less than 2% of tumors in the central nervous system, hemangioblastoma typically affect middle-aged individuals and can be associated with Von Hippel-Lindau syndrome in which tumors recur continuously throughout a person’s lifetime. They are noncancerous, but can cause serious complications over time. As long as surgical excision is possible, prognoses tend to be positive.

To ask why or how,  I was diagnosed with a rare tumor known to affect an age range far beyond my own, is to commit my thoughts to a wheel of irrationality. I could turn the question over and over and never have an answer. From there on out, I moved as though in a dream.

I had to call my mother. Nothing could happen until I’d seen her in person. But when she answered, I couldn’t form the words. Handing the phone over, I asked the doctor to explain the problem. Three thousand miles away, a grown woman pulled over to the side of the road and cried, then purchased a plane ticket so that she could attend the imminent craniotomy of her frightened twenty-something daughter.

My mother kissed my face, told me she loved me, but did not accompany me to the prep room. The walls were white and the hallways went forever. Four hours of surgery turned into eight. There had been some bleeding, they said.

Four hours of surgery turned into eight. There had been some bleeding, they said. I woke panicked and groggy. What time was it? Did my mother know I was okay? In the ICU, the nurses told me I had the healthiest lungs in the ward. My head was so heavy. I remember the morphine made me sick. I thought my stitches would split back open.

Slowly, the physical evidence of trauma faded. I wrote so many pages pondering the dreamless darkness of those eight hours. If I had died, would they have gone on forever? Would I have known myself missed? Had I glimpsed into the after and found it empty? For weeks afterward, I dreamt vivid, terrifying flashes that woke me in the night.

Through a scattered plot of points over a period of years, I can trace a path from the first suggestion of something amiss to the doctor’s final diagnosis. At any number of crossroads, I could have turned another way and arrived at the end more abruptly. I think of the neurology appointment I made in March of 2010, then canceled because the headaches had subsided for awhile. Or the end could have been different, could have been worse, could have been nothing. If I had taken more vitamin C or had eaten better or slept more? If the tumor had been cancerous or inoperable? Or — again — that wheel of irrationality.

It’s many years on now and I can climb mountains as well as stairs. I write stories and keep more in my fridge than condiments. My hair has grown out and most of the feeling has come back to my head, though they severed the nerve there. Whenever I tell anyone that I once had a brain tumor, I qualify the statement by adding: but I’m fine now.

 

At the end, this is the main reason I play the piano, it was my first medicine to come over my pain and the change I had in my life. Please respect my thoughts.