To be or not to be that is the question
wether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
or to take arms against a see of troubles
and by opposing end them
to die to sleep no more and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to
from memory, had to memorize it some 11 years ago in ap english class.
you know you are baby. as a follow up for the uber nerds among us
wan aprille with the shores sote the drothe of march had pierced to the rote and bathed every vein in swish licor, in virtu engendered is the flor.
the above is probably horribly misspelled but it is the first couple of lines to the preface to canterbury tales in middle english. which I also had to memorize some 11 years ago.
Alas poor I'm a thread killing sumbitch! I knew it JoeP, a thread of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: it hath borne me on its back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those pages that I have perused I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the forum on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
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Much of MADNESS, and more of SIN, and HORROR the soul of the plot.