Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs
love
A selected quote by William Shakespeare.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs
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Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains, my sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk
Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain
Year: A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments
To get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with