To live a life half dead, a living death.

Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won.

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.

They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.

Biochemically, love is just like eating large amounts of chocolate.

Moping melancholy And moon-struck madness.

Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.