“When forty winters shall besiege thy brow And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gaz’d on now, Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d, where all thy beauty lies,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Love by the sweat of thy brow. Not through whispered words of hollow sound or lofty dreams ne’er substance bound that more than oft do run aground. Nay, love with mighty, blistered hands that turn the soil and carve the… — Richelle E. Goodrich Copy Share Image
