free scripts

“I did not then. I just riz the loy and let fall the edge of it on the ridge of his skull, and he went down at my feet like an empty sack, and never let a grunt or groan from him at all.”

“Thy worst. I fart at thee.”

“Mother, give me the sun.”

“Dot vhiskey gat kick, by yingo!”

“Didst thou ever see / A lark in a cage? Such is the soul in the body: this world / Is like her little turf of grass, and the heaven o’er our heads, / Like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge / Of the small compass of our prison.”

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