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.
by Wiiliam Shakespeare
Certainly, I am far away from writing so deep. But the spirits are high and night is young. This is a beautiful sonnet I read somewhere. To me it all the more means when true love shall knock my door, or may be if it already has, the courage to accept it shall be drawn with it. Lasting forever like a star in the sky or the breeze that just passed by…it shall be with me for a long while…..