Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house.
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out “Olivia!” Oh, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.
Twelfth Night, Act I, Scene v, lines 243-251
So if you say will it get some wind for the sailboat and it could for it is.
It could be Franky it could be very fresh and clean. So it could be those ones. So if
You cash the bank of world traveler from 10 months ago.
Do you remember Hans the bus driver? Well I put the red ball
blue ball two black and white balls. And Hans pushed on his brakes and
the four balls went down to that. And Hans said. "get those four balls away from the gearshift" All these are the days my friends and these are the days my friends. It could get the railroad for these workers.
Knee Play 1, Einstein on the Beach
Two lovers sat on a park bench, with their bodies touching each other, holding hands in the moonlight.
There was silence between them. So profound was their love for each other, they needed no words to express it. And so they sat in silence, on a park bench, with their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight.
Finally she spoke. "Do you love me, John?" she asked. "You know I love you, darling," he replied. "I love you more than tongue can tell. You are the light of my life, my sun, moon and stars. You are my everything. Without you I have no reason for being."
Again there was silence as the two lovers sat on a park bench, their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight. Once more she spoke. "How much do you love me, John?" she asked. He answered: "How much do I love you? Count the stars in the sky. Measure the waters of the oceans with a teaspoon. Number the grains of sand on the sea shore. Impossible, you say."
"Two Lovers on a Park Bench"
I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and
suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the
right butter-women's rank to market.
For a taste:
If a hart do lack a hind,
Let him seek out Rosalind.
If the cat will after kind,
So be sure will Rosalind.
Winter garments must be lined,
So must slender Rosalind.
They that reap must sheaf and bind;
Then to cart with Rosalind.
Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
Such a nut is Rosalind.
He that sweetest rose will find
Must find love's prick and Rosalind.
This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you
infect yourself with them?
Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
--As You Like It, Act III, Scene ii