Mémoire perverse

OLIM

Le tu, le tout.


O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self−slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!

(Shakespeare, Hamlet)