The truth [is] that there is only one terminal dignity-love. And the story of a love is not important-what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.
Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
As sweet and musical As bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his hair;And when Love speaks, the voice of all the godsMakes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eye, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion -I have shudderd at it. I shudder no more. I could be martyrd for my religion Love is my religion And I could die for that. I could die for you.
I swear to thee by Cupid’s strongest bow,By his best arrow with the golden head,By the simplicity of Venus’ doves,By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, ... By all the vows that ever men have broke(In number more than ever women spoke).
Oh shes nice, shes kind, Innocent too. Shes probably pretty The right one for you So Just forget me: Im only a friend Though Ill be with You Until the end Only a friend,