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But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green sickness, carrion! Out, you baggage! You tallow face!
O God!—O Nurse, how shall this be prevented? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven. How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that husband send it me from heaven
Farewell!—God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins That almost freezes up the heat of life. I’ll call them back again to comfort me.— Nurse!—What should she do here?
“ He does not let go of my hand; the little silver box I hold creates a barrier between us even as another one breaks”
“Only when I hold onto nothing can I be the best, only then can I be what they expect me to be”
Lying in bed, my body and soul bruised and tired, I realize that the Officials are right. Once you want something, everything changes. Now I want everything. More and more and more. I want to pick my work position. Marry who I choose
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