Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.
O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
Nature does require her time of preservation, which perforce, I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal, must give my attendance to.
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