Love is the greatest and most excellent thing we are masters of and therefore it is folly and baseness to bestow it unworthily. It is indeed the only thing we can call our own: other things may be taken from us by violence, but none can ravish our love.
Sometimes I’m in a mood like a Maths problem such as If you have pencils and apples, how many pancakes will fit on the roof? Purple, because aliens don’t wear hats
