"When he shall die, take him and cut him out into little stars and he shall make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun." -Shakespeare
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fallen from the fig tree
Garish sun. Oh, Shakespeare.
ReplyDeleteGash to the earth, oh sun. Drip your bloody beams.
Garish is on of my favorite words. Shakespeare is the reason this is.
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