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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Shall I be plain?--I wish the bastards dead; - To-day shalt thou behold a subject die
The lights burn blue.--It is now dead midnight. Why then, God's soldier be he! Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Your part in her you could not keep from death; Long mayest thou live to wail thy children's death; - Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
That makes us wretched by the death of thee, - Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
Ha, banishment? be merciful, say death; The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. What sights of ugly death within my eyes! With Romeo till I behold him--dead-- The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;