Het is weekend. Een Nederlandse waarde.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.

FvDames, ze maken wat los.

Evaatje Vlaar, 'jong', oud en ontbindend, ze vinden er allemaal wat van. Maar vooral Eline is er eventjes helemaal klaar mee.  Soms is het gewoon genoeg. Ben je op. Wil je niet meer en al zou je willen zou je niet meer kunnen. Want zelfs al ben je een superaardig iemand, er zijn altijd wel mensen die het onaardigste in je naar boven halen.

Het is weekend. Liefde het leven.

Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action, and till action, lust
Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had,
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit, and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
  All this the world well knows, yet none knows well
  To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.

Het is weekend. We keken er al naar uit.

A woman's face with nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
     But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
     Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.