«Att fly är livet,
att dröja döden»
Romeo:
«It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.»
~Romeo and Juliet, Act 3, Scene 5
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«marching to the beat of a different conundrum.»
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