shakespear

'

O, here 
Will I set up my everlasting rest, 
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars 
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! 
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you 
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss 
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.

'
//jonna.c



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