Liverpool FC Forum

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 2:46 pm

Little has been said so far about a New Years AMNESTY for all those with yellow cards and especially for Bam (one of our best posters)

I think it would be a nice start to the New Year for the sinners amongst us (and for some who were sinned against)

So lets start the New Year with a clean (or cleaner) sheet and take away some of those cards.

As someone who was bard once said " The quality of mercy is not strained"

by **dawson99** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:01 pm

" The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."

there's my tuppence worth from the bard.
But yeah, BBB! (bring back bam, t-shirts out soon)

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:08 pm

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
AND GET BANNED

by **dawson99** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:09 pm

The attempt and not the deed
Confounds us. :nod

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:14 pm

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong,

by **dawson99** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:17 pm

Pray you now, forget and forgive. :cool:

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:23 pm

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

by **supersub** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 8:26 pm

there will be no amnesty this new year.......but bans maybe handed out :;):

happy new year :laugh:

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:38 pm

That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Happy New year :cool:

by **dawson99** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:54 pm

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be never so vile. This day shall gentle his condition. And gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.”

shakespeare was a dude

by **Number 9** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 10:13 pm

s@int wrote:That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Happy New year

Been spending too much time with Maypax mate!

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 10:19 pm

Number 9 wrote:
s@int wrote:That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Happy New year

Been spending too much time with Maypax mate!

That's Shakespeare my dear fellow

Although Dawson pinched his best soliloquy ...... even though it didn't fit! :angry:

by **Number 9** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 10:22 pm

s@int wrote:
Number 9 wrote:
s@int wrote:That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Happy New year

Been spending too much time with Maypax mate!

That's Shakespeare my dear fellow Although Dawson pinched his best soliloquy ...... even though it didn't fit!

Weirdos!

How come Shakespeare was writing poems about an amnesty on newkit anyway?

by **Sabre** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 10:33 pm

At this point they came in sight of thirty forty windmills that there are on plain, and as soon as Don Quixote saw them he said to his squire, "Fortune is arranging matters for us better than we could have shaped our desires ourselves, for look there, friend Sancho Panza, where thirty or more monstrous giants present themselves, all of whom I mean to engage in battle and slay, and with whose spoils we shall begin to make our fortunes; for this is righteous warfare, and it is God's good service to sweep so evil a breed from off the face of the earth."

"What giants?" said Sancho Panza.

"Those thou seest there," answered his master, "with the long arms, and some have them nearly two leagues long."

"Look, your worship," said Sancho; "what we see there are not giants but windmills, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by the wind make the millstone go."

"It is easy to see," replied Don Quixote, "that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat."

So saying, he gave the spur to his steed Rocinante, heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were windmills and not giants he was going to attack. He, however, was so positive they were giants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho, nor perceived, near as he was, what they were, but made at them shouting, "Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you."

by **account deleted by request** » Thu Jan 01, 2009 10:38 pm

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

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