Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116
One of my favorites. I also love this modern day translation that I found here: (oh, Shakespeare, you romantic, you!)
Let me not declare any reasons why two True-minded people should not be married. Love is not love Which changes when it finds a change in circumstances, Or bends from its firm stand even when a lover is unfaithful: Oh no! it is a lighthouse That sees storms but it never shaken; Love is the guiding north star to every lost ship, Whose value cannot be calculated, although its altitude can be measured. Love is not at the mercy of Time, though physical beauty Comes within the compass of his sickle. Love does not alter with hours and weeks, But, rather, it endures until the last day of life. If I am proved wrong about these thoughts on love Then I recant all that I have written, and no man has ever [truly] loved.
Here's the flyer for the Newark Symphony Concert this weekend. If you're in the area, be sure to come out and see us! The music stunning-- especially the solo violin in the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto. Be sure to bring your student id if you're a student so that you can get a discount on your ticket.
See you there (I'll be playing in the second violin section)!
I'm listening to this one on repeat today-- Feist covering the Ron Sexsmith song, Secret Heart.
Secret heart What are you made of? What are you so afraid of? Could it be three simple words? Or the fear of being overheard? What's wrong? Let em' in on your secret heart
Secret heart Why so mysterious? Why so sacred? Why so serious? Maybe you're Just acting tough Maybe you're just not man enough What's wrong?
Let him in on your secret heart
This very secret That you're trying to conceal Is the very same one That you're dying to reveal Go tell him how you feel
Secret heart come out and share it This loneliness, few can bear it Could it have something to do with Admitting that you just can't go through it alone?
Let him in on your secret heart
This very secret That you're trying to conceal Is the very same one That you're dying to reveal Go him them how you feel This very secret heart
I happen to be one of those most exasperating of people: an indispensable woman. I love reading more than just about anything (and, indeed, usually think in terms of literary characters). I try to follow the golden rule, usually come off as a goody two-shoes (which I probably am), and have the feeling that I am often not understood. I dream of babies, and a husband, and puppies. Perhaps one day, God willing.