posted on Sep, 6 2005 @ 01:03 PM
I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth and indeed it goes
so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me a
sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this mighty
o'rehanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire; why, it
appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What
a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, how
like an angel in aprehension, how like a God! The beauty of the world,
paragon of animals; and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dusk. Man
delights not me, no, nor women neither, nor women neither.