False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none
I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. (Act 4, Scene 1)
So fair and foul a day i had not seen.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Too nice, and yet too true!
Engel nennens Freude, Teufel nennens Pein, Menschen meinen, Es muss Liebe sein.
Your heart .That
I am never, ever, going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.
It was sort of like Macbeth, thought Fat Charlie, an hour later; in fact, if the witches in Macbeth had been four little old ladies and if, instead of stirring cauldrons and intoning dread incantations, they had just welcomed Macbeth in and fed him turkey and rice and peas spread out on white china plates on a red-and-white patterned plastic tablecloth -- not to mention sweet potato pudding and spice cabbage -- and encouraged him to take second helpings, and thirds, and then, when Macbeth had declaimed that nay, he was stuffed nigh unto bursting and on his oath could truly eat no more, the witches had pressed upon him their own special island rice pudding and a large slice of Mrs. Bustamonte's famous pineapple upside-down cake, it would have been exactly like Macbeth.
Whoa. Fangs. She had fangs. She leaned in, prodded them a little. Eating with those puppies was going to take some getting used to, she thought. On impulse, she brought up her hands, turned her fingers into claws. Hissed. Cool
So would you like to try on some clothes?
The past can not be cured.
He looks like an angel, sings like an angel. He found my breaking heart a coaxed it into a new rhythm. A rhythm so sweet, so captivating, so enticing, I can
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