tristen

I have of late, and wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise; 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. Oh brave, oerhanging firmament. Majestic roof fretted with golden fire, why it appeareth to me nothing more than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable. In action, how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god. The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals yet to me what is this quintessence of dust... man delights not me.

(borrowed this line from Hamlet... just seemed to fit today. Phrase, question and quote of the day will be postponed until further notice...)