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Young Guns Mafia


JustInFudge

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The soul of wit may become the very body of untruth. However elegant and memorable, brevity can never, in the nature of things, do justice to all the facts of a complex situation. On such a theme one can be brief only by omission and simplification. Omission and sim­plification help us to understand -- but help us, in many cases, to understand the wrong thing; for our compre­hension may be only of the abbreviator's neatly formu­lated notions, not of the vast, ramifying reality from which these notions have been so arbitrarily abstracted.

Aldous Huxley

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http://www.enotes.com/richard-3-text/act-scene-1

Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;

And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,--

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing world scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;--

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,

And descant on mine own deformity:

And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lover,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,--

I am determined to prove a villain,

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,

To set my brother Clarence and the king

In deadly hate the one against the other:

And if King Edward be as true and just

As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,--

About a prophecy which says that G

Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

Dive, thoughts, down to my soul:--here Clarence comes.

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http://www.enotes.co...ext/act-scene-1

Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;

And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,--

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing world scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;--

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,

And descant on mine own deformity:

And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lover,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,--

I am determined to prove a villain,

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,

To set my brother Clarence and the king

In deadly hate the one against the other:

And if King Edward be as true and just

As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,--

About a prophecy which says that G

Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

Dive, thoughts, down to my soul:--here Clarence comes.

I've been to York...father born there...winters harsh...people magnificent.

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The soul of wit may become the very body of untruth. However elegant and memorable, brevity can never, in the nature of things, do justice to all the facts of a complex situation. On such a theme one can be brief only by omission and simplification. Omission and sim­plification help us to understand -- but help us, in many cases, to understand the wrong thing; for our compre­hension may be only of the abbreviator's neatly formu­lated notions, not of the vast, ramifying reality from which these notions have been so arbitrarily abstracted.

Aldous Huxley

A criticism of a Shakespeare quote from a novel that is named after a line in The Tempest. You really are waxing poetic tonight.

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Our furry friend thought he could out-nostalgia the old guy...did my best...but need to hit the sack soon...

Lol <3

I don't actually listen to much music. Jazz is probably my favorite genre but I don't even know too much about that. Saw Grace Kelly at Scullers a few months ago. That was really cool.

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