Thus doth she, when from individual states
She doth abstract the universal kinds,
Which then reclothed in divers names and fates,
Steal access thro' our senses to our minds.
+ Verbum sapienti sat est. +
Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But to another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.
am not a saint..
i got thirteen and never grew up..
an annabel reincarnate for some.