..sonnet 116..
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 bear it out even to the edge of doom.
if this be error and upon me be proved,
i never writ, nor no man ever loved.
                                                                    -william shakespeare