a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief
I cannot tell what the dickens his name is.
Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!
His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.
I despised my arrival on this earth and I despise my departure; it is a tragedy.
Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*