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.
.
There's nothing serious in mortality: I that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, Then he is dead? Methought their souls whose bodies Richard murder'd But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. Now, Make Oral Sex a Treat . . . " A thing like death to chide away this shame, The other Edward dead to quit my Edward; | Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies |
That do conspire my death with devilish plots Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-- Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white That, when the brains were out, the man would die, Devoutly to be wish'd. To die,--to sleep;-- 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. The least a death to nature.