Oyonale - 3D art and graphic experiments
ShakeSpam
Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.
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That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. His venom tooth will rankle to the death: Why then, God's soldier be he! Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, The imminent death of twenty thousand men Soldiers, sir. Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, It is supposed, the fair creature died,-- Thou know'st 'tis common,--all that lives must die, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death? For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it! Much more than death; do not say banishment. That unsubstantial death is amorous; Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. Your part in her you could not keep from death;