This is how my daughter, my sweet baby girl, has decorated her Christmas tree.
Just stab me in my broken heart.
If she must team,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur’d torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is
To have a thankless child! – King Lear Act 1, scene 4