You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.

If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.

Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues.

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.

What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.