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Tuesday, April 23, 2013

A love sonnet, by Shakespeare

Let 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-fixèd mark that looks on tempests
and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring 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
 - <3 Shakespeare
( born and passed on April 23 )

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