MerAngel
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So, considering the Thanks... Did you snap up some tickets and make it to the show?
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Julie, Sorry I haven't been around in a while. Spent most of the summer in Hospital. Had surgery in August and I'm still trying to get back into a schedule and back in the loop of things. Didn't mean to dissapear. Just been hectic tryin to heal and deal with both the boys bein in school now along with my hubby bein in University too. Hope all is well on your end! I'm getting there - just tired of Doctors that actually have last names. Ready for the holidays? I'm workin on it, just can't get into the spirit. Hope to see you around the boards. I'll try to pop in a bit more regular.
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Hey,
haven't heard from you in awhile. Just thought I'd say hi and how are you?
If you're still intersted in library topics, LuckyDawg just created a social group for libraries, library workers, and people who like libraries. Its a bit of fun called The Library Nook.
Well, hope you're doing well. - Julie
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I don't think its so much about age than taste for good language. Whose your favorite Shakespearean character? That reminds me. I found a funny quote generator called the Shakespearean Insulter. Most of them are quite funny. I was almost going to start calling negative musers ill-cooked eggs, but that would have the same effect as telling people I'm an exoterist. Sorry, I'm also a big talker. Oh, and my name is Julie. Feel free to message me as often as you like on any subject. Its a really slow summer in the library.
-Have a good evening, J.
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My Fave Quote has to be a whole speach ;-)
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
Hamlet Act 3, scene 1, 55–87 [italics mine]
I kind of wonder if the Love of Shakespeare is an age thing - but then I have always been that way.