Sonnet 81
By William Shakespeare
Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse,
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
You still shall live (such virtue hath my pen)
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
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My Friday was busy -- took Maddy to work, did a whole bunch of chores, did a quick Raikou raid behind the mall at lunchtime, stopped in the mall and after much fighting with Sears used points to buy two pairs of leggings for 84 cents and a Verizon reward to buy perfume at Sephora, did some very boring work stuff, went to Petco with Paul to get cat litter and stopped in Michael's, picked up Maddy from work.
We watched the two-hour pilot of Inhumans, which is two hours of my life I'll never get back. I figured after The Orville that maybe all the professional reviewers were just idiots, but no, they were write that the story was both absurd and awkward and the acting was wooden. We watched some Bones afterward for fun! Some photos from my mall visit of the Shakespeare Theatre Company costume display there:
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