Alas, poor Yorick I knew him, Horatio a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now your gambols, your songs your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar Not one now, to mock your own grinning Quite chap-fallen Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come.Rate it:(5.00 / 2 votes)Say it

William Shakespeare

English poet and dramatist considered one of the greatest English writers (1564-1616)

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"William Shakespeare Quotes." Quotes.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2014. Web. 23 Nov. 2014. <http://www.quotes.net/quote/5395>.

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