To be in love- where scorn is bought with groans, Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights; If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won;… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Some people seem born with a head in which the thin partition that divides great wit from folly is wanting. — Robert Southey Copy Share Image
