With mirth in funeral
With mirth in funeral
Where sits Deformity to mock my body; To shape my legs of an unequal size; To disproportion me in every part, Like to a chaos, or an unlicked bear-whelp, That carries no impression like the dam. And am I then a man to be beloved?
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...
Verily, there will be mirth and merriment.
What do you know, Will?
To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice, That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,
tbf, he may be in the beginnings of "Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe..."
Yet here VP Vance stands, Donald's bootlicker
Come on William, “fun in funeral” was right there
Not a wedding I think.
One can dream
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt…. Melt already!!!
Held in torrential yellow rain according to my personal forecast.
and with dirge in marriage.
Golden lads and girls all must As chimney sweepers come to dust.
Hamlet I.ii 12 King "Have we (as ’twere with a defeated joy, With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole) Taken to wife. "