Winter of our discontent - Shakespeare

This quote was added by atallah
Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this sun of York; and all the clouds that lour'd upon our house, in the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; our bruised arms hung up for monuments; our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

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