Thursday, January 27, 2005

Hark, methinks boredom doth come!

To be, or not to to thine own self be true, yet there is method in that it should come to this! Methinks brevity is the soul of wit but I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it for ever and a day with an honest tale being plainly told but love is blind, and lovers cannot see, why, then the world 's mine for the short and the long of it for I cannot tell what the dickens his name is and as good luck would have it, our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt. So first thing we do is kill all the lawyers because small things make base men proud and not budge an inch for to cry "Et tu, Brute!" for as he was valiant, I honor him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him, So out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying that nothing will come of nothing having more than thou showest, speaking less than thou knowest, and lending less than thou owest but the worst is not, So long as we can say, 'This is the worst.' but since that is neither here nor there I would galdly say Men of few words are the best men for the rain it raineth every day.

Yeah no less then 28 references there.
Sitck that in your Shakespeare pipe and smoke it.

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