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Yorick

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.

HAMLET ACT 5 SCENE I. A churchyard.

{ 1 comment… add one }
  • Tony October 10, 2019, 7:37 PM

    As I have aged I have come to appreciate and enjoy Mr. Shakespeare. The robotic hand foreshadows that he may continue to be read, eons hence.

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