O Love, O great god Love, what have I done? And constancy lives in realms above.
One's first love is always perfect until one meets one's second love. The loathsome prostitution of a hand without a heart! He that can't live upon love deserves to die in a ditch. As Old Time makes these decay, so his flames must waste away.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it. Destitute, desolate, demolished, demons inside.
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