comics

Mercutio:
Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faints.
Romeo:
Swits and spurs, swits and spurs, or I'll cry a match.
Mercutio:
Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done; for
thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am
sure, I have in my whole five.

Words of the Week

sempiternal

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