Yorick

O rare Tristram Shandy, thou very sensible, humorous, pathetic, humane, unaccountable, what shall we call thee? Rabelais? Cervantes? What, thou hast afforded us so much real pleasure in perusing thy life, we can't call it thy life neither, since thy mother is still in labor of thee, as demands our gratitude for thee entertainment.

Thy Uncle Toby, thy Yorick, thy father, Dr. Slop, Corporal Trim, all thy characters are excellent and thy opinions amiable.

If thou publishest 50 volumes, all abounding with the profitable and pleasant like these, we will venture to say thou wilt be read and admired.

Admired by whom? Why, sir, by the best, if not the most numerous class of mankind.

Then they find a sermon.

They get this book to talk about seven S or whatever his name was.

The sermon falls out, sermon from Yorick, which is the alter ego of Lawrence Stern, that Lawrence Stern wrote these sermons.

He put this and other sermons in together, which seems to be a sermon that's interrupted a million times.

Yep.

Yorick has my sense of humor.

That's why I don't like

him.

Sorry, Matt.

You don't like Yorick?

I'm kidding.

I do.