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As sweet and musical As bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his hair;And
when Love speaks, the voice of all the godsMakes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,Love can transpose to form and
dignity. Love looks not with the eye, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more
temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So
long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
The truth [is] that there is only one terminal dignity-love. And the story of a
love is not important-what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse
we are permitted of eternity.
