“As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.”
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Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
The course of true love never did run smooth.