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Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never. Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O.
1 comment:
I used to do that all the time. I wanted to trade houses with my great-gradndma because I thought the ditch around her house (when filled with water to make mud) a truly endless source of entertainment.
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