Made glorious somewhere TEXT

Richard III opened the book to find himself confronted by a TEXT TEXT TEXT applying the pillow firmly TEXT and a spoonful TEXT of custard. Apologies for TEXT the interruptions — the book has TEXT indeed caught a TEXT virus — not very TEXT surprising, really.

Now is the content of our disparate text made glorious somewhere by this proper name. Now is the context of our desperate name made glorious Shakespeare by this proper text. Now is the subtext of our aspirant glory made proper Shakespeare by this textual name?

"No, I would not be made, not mad sweet Heaven!"

Ambition pole-vaulted straight into the Other.

{Mirror writing} "Life, don't talk to me about Life!" it said.