My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Ang Shakespeare, William
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As of: January 09th, 2009 06:36:45 AM
Author: Oliver Sacks
Had I but died an hour before this chance
I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant
There 's nothing serious in mortality.
All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of."
[Macb Shakespeare, William