Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake.
“Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.”
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For, when with beauty we can virtue join, We paint the semblance of a form divine.
Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.