Let me not to the marriage of true minds...
Sonnet 116Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. Buy and Download...Click HERE
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There’s nothing that will come between kindred spirits. You can’t call it real love if it changes when circumstances change, or when the object of affection goes away. No, it’s a fixed target, that’s not shaken by storms. It’s every mariner’s North Star, of inestimable worth, even if we know its physical position. Love isn’t a slave to Time, even if he alters pretty looks. Love doesn’t change over time, but endures endlessly. If this isn't true, I never wrote anything, nor no one ever fell in love.