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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To turn your households' rancour to pure love. And bad'st me bury love. From whence himself does fly? He loves us not: Thy loving father, Hamlet. Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother, love passing well. That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit; Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Could not, with all their quantity of love, Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. love passing well. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.