What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me—
nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
“What a piece of work is a man”
I get that a lot. Well something like that anyway.
“What a freakin’ piece of work he is”. Obviously it’s by people in awe of my splendor. Men wish they were me, women want to be with me...that sort of thing.
At least I think thats what they mean ;)