Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.
[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation.
No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.
Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub.
I will not say nothing. I will defend my church and my religion when it is insulted and spit on.