"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters not when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: oh no! It is an ever fixed mark, that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark, whose world's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come; love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom: if this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved."
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