Thursday, August 2, 2007

King Lear

It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonoured step,
That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;

But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking.
King Lear, 1. 1



Self explanatory, I think.
Perhaps I will not understand it in a year or so, but now, it is all I have to say to myself. I don't have any other means to put it in words. I try, but my brain is still. Motionless, astonished...

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