-Shakespeare, "Richard II"I have no name, no title,
No, not that name was given me at the font,
But ’tis usurp’d: alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!
O that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
.
And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?
Archilochus
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Who am I, 24601?
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2 comments:
"Who am I?"
One of the eternal questions -- long before the 60s, when I used to hear that question so often.
We are at times so many people. I often wonder why I feel compelled to desire to be the same one, all the time.
Jean Valjean... 24601... Cosette's father... Mayor of the town...
*shakes head*
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