And then I'll go be miserable. Because my daughter's insisting on miserableness for New Year's Eve.
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From Romeo and
Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2
By
William Shakespeare
He jests
at scars that never felt a wound.
Enter Juliet above at a window.
But
soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is
the East, and Juliet is the sun!
Arise,
fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is
already sick and pale with grief
That
thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not
her maid, since she is envious.
Her
vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none
but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my
lady; O, it is my love!
O that
she knew she were!
She
speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye
discourses; I will answer it.
I am too
bold; 'tis not to me she speaks.
Two of
the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having
some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle
in their spheres till they return.
What if
her eyes were there, they in her head?
The
brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As
daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would
through the airy region stream so bright
That
birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how
she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I
were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that
cheek!
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