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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This grave shall have a living monument: So what are you waiting for? Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone? And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed. Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;-- Who shall reward you better for my life And all those twenty could but kill one life. Chief nourisher in life's feast. - Who shall reward you better for my life
On wholesome life usurp immediately. That makes calamity of so long life; - After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
Fordo it own life: 'twas of some estate. The life of Tybalt. - Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it;
But, tell me is young George Stanley living? Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee, As living here, and you no use of him. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? No less in truth than life: my first false speaking With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,-- Who was in life a foolish peating knave. Thine own life's means!--Then 'tis most like,