Sometimes her breath smells terrible, but it's cool.

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"I grant I never saw a goddess go:
 My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
 And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
 As any she belied with false compare."
(Shakespeare's Sonnet CXXX, lines 11-4)

I liked the entirety of this sonnet. I picked the last four lines because it brought it's truest meaning out: My lover isn't perfect, but I love him/her intensely anyway. It shows that some things are just petty: eye color, skin color, hair color, body type, etc. All that matters is the love that you can share with that person.

http://jerz.setonhill.edu/EL150/2008/sonnet-shakespeare.php

1 Comments

Maddie Gillespie said:

Who can argue with such a heartfelt statement? Well, I'm sure there's someone out there who could argue it, but I won't. I agree with you implicitly that no one's perfect. It may be that your lover is the closest thing to perfection that you will ever find, though there are those few annoying traits that you can't help but tease them over!

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