I’ve often lost myself in the pleasant maze of delicate Shakespearean characters. There are so many. That routinely disturbed. And I wondered each time I floundered if it were I who failed him or him who failed me. To me Shakespearean characters have always appeared as representatives of emotions defined and delimited more by their distinctive psychic patterns than by the dramas they inhabited.
I call them rumblings as they grossly lack the structure and merits of a perfect read - yet clasp close as they reflect my inconstancy and joie de vivre - unyielding to any persuasion known to man (please accept 'lies' as incidental or embellished truths - as I strongly deny the existence of 'Lie' - it's always 'Truth' or otherwise...besides 'Truth' in its purity lacks imagination)...Happy Reading!
Monday, June 18, 2012
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