Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers'' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers'' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet
Can I Say '''' I Love You '''' Today. . . ?
If Not, Can I Ask You Again Tomorrow. . . ?
And
The Day After Tomorrow. . .?
And
The Day After That. . . ?
Coz I''ll Be Loving You Every Single Day Of My Life.
Can I say I love you today? If not, can I ask you again tomorrow? And the day after tomorrow? And the day after that? Coz I''ll be loving you every single day of my life.
All love at first, like generous wine,
Ferments and frets until ‘tis fine;
But when ‘tis settled on the lee,
And from th’ impurer matter free,
Become the richer still the older,
And proves the pleasanter the colder.
