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Whose flame creeps in at every hole! Never the right time or the place, we misstep.
My love will have a sense of pity in it, making it less a worship than before. How happy are lovers, how pleasing their pain. Of this mortal's life, hath killed the world above. Love has sweetness to the taste, but it presents bitterness also to satiety.
Love is warfare. For love deceives the best of woman kind.