These hours, and only these, redeem Life's years of ill. He who loves not wine, woman, and song, remains a fool his whole life long.
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done? Love taught him shame, and shame with love at strife. A wounded bird, that hath but one imperfect wing to soar upon. Love is a credulous thing.
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak. We grumble a little now and then, to be sure; but there's no love lost between us.
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