By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mock’ry makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
| — | The Tragedy of Othello the Moor of Venice |
who the kiss are you?!
<3
whaaat?
Slapsgiving :)
