My English is fine. Its Shakespeare's fine.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks the trolls comes and command my poor soul. As air is foul, and foul is fair,hover through the fog and trolling like air,brevity is the soul of wit! my dear. Would you kindly take a bow? tis a tale of lost language and English glory for Englais it was named to English it became,spare the though of my written words, for it is a musing of madcat repertoire! For to be or not to be? sound in mind and grammatically correct? That is the question.