"Is not to leave't undone but kept unknown." (III, iii, 197, 201-204)
I went to Othello tonight, it would have been great but for two things.
1. I went by myself, being alone at the theater sucks.
2. As the old man who was sitting next to me tried to walk past, I sat up on my upright seat to let him through. Just at the moment he was directly in front of me, I slipped off the seat, shot forward and effectively straddled him. I'm sure I made his night better, but I made mine so much awkwardly worse.
In high school I was in this play. I was Desdemona's dad. I think this is where I picked up my racism.
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