When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
Me when me im when im when im i m im im
-William Shakspere, 2007
For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time.