Alas, poor XP! I knew him, Horatio; an operating system of infinite jest, of
most excellent fancy; it hath borne me on its back a thousand times; and
now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rims at it. Here
hung those icons that I have clicked I know not how oft. Where be your
gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that
were wont to set the table on a roar?
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