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0 sats \ 1 reply \ @Coinsreporter 10h \ parent \ on: Most comments wins 👀 meta
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
William Shakespeare, The Tempest
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
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