Monday, July 14, 2008
Since I Want To Kill Her I Will Distract Myself
When my cue comes, call me and I will answer. My next is "Most fair Pyramus!" Heigh-Ho! Peter Quine? Flute, the bellows mender? Snout the tinker? Starveling? God's my life, stolen hence and left me asleep! I have had the most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go about to expound upon this dream. Methought I was... there is no man can tell what. Methought I was... and methought I had... but man is a patched fool to offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, for it hath no bottom. And I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke. Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.
almost... it's hard to do when the phones ring.
almost... it's hard to do when the phones ring.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment