All Shakespeare needed was one word more.


...I have of late—but wherefore 
I know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of 
exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my 
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to 
me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, 
the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, 
this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, 
it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent 
congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man! 
How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, 
in form and moving how express and admirable, 
in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like 
a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! 
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man 
delights not me—no, nor woman neither, though by 
your smiling you seem to say so. Bastards.

(Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2 + one word)

Yep. That's how I feel right now.
People are just a pain in the arras...


Anonymous said...

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I found your blog and I thought you could be interested ;)

Here's the link:

I really hope you like it.
Thanks for your time ;)

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