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The road to true love never did run smooth.
Love is merely madness.
How far that little candle throws his beams! <br> So shines a good deed in a weary world.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Why then the worlds mine oyster, Which I with sword shall open.
O, throw away the worser part of it, And live the purer with the other half.
To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
Tempt not a desperate man.