“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
I love this sonnet. I had to memorize it in the sixth grade and then interpret what it meant to me. Ever since then, when ever I think of what love means, this is what I refer to. For someone who was considered a player, as Shakespeare was, he certainly hit the mark for what love is. The bolded lines are my favorite parts of the sonnet.
Love doesn’t change when a little thing tries to break it and love never fades. Love last forever.