from The Merchant of Venice - William Shakespeare
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad:
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.
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Εμπρός ΘουΒού! Πές μας τί σκέφτεσαι!