If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out If your tired unspeaking head Rivet the dark with linear sight, Crazed by a warlock with his curse Dreamed up in some loquacious bed, And if the stage-dark head rehearse The fifth act of the closing night, Why, cut it off, piece after piece, And throw the tough cortex away, And when you`ve marvelled on the wars That wove their interior smoke its way, Tear out the close vermiculate crease Where death crawled angrily at bay.SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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