LADY MACBETH. […] You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things.
[…]and therefore lie wholly at the mercy of him whom the greatness of his Title and Pontifical Pomp, exceeding so infinitely his just Revenues, must make a severe exacter of Tribute from them that are most appropriately under his power, and thereby put them to unworthy shifts and sharkings upon the people by pious, or rather impious, Sleights and Frauds, he sending out and dispersing these Birds of his in numerous flocks, to be his hungry Pick-peny's throughout the whole Pastorage of the Empire.
Nothing can beat the simple pleasure of paddling a pram around on a foggy dawn, probing pad flats, stumps and fallen logs for lurking bass.
The intense, nutty aroma of freshly brewed coffee was still lingering in the air of my modest den. With my back against my hulking bookshelf, I, now in ambedo, watched the rain drip-drop on the window pane. But the pattering of the rain against the glass door of the balcony was so intense and unsettling that for a brief moment, I experienced chrysalism.
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