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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With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood; The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night? Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, She swoons to see them bleed. Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end: Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, Excitements of my reason and my blood, Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten Who made thee, then, a bloody minister That would reduce these bloody days again, A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; - Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, New Scent Makes You Simply Irresistible Wrong not her birth; she is of royal blood. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,