And so I wanted to post something from among the several gadzillion poems that came up during the conversation:
______________________________
Sonnet
129
By
William Shakespeare
The
expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is
lust in action: and till action, lust
Is
perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage,
extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoy’d
no sooner but despised straight;
Past
reason hunted; and no sooner had,
Past
reason hated, as a swallow’d bait,
On
purpose laid to make the taker mad:
Mad
in pursuit and in possession so;
Had,
having, and in quest, to have extreme;
A
bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe;
Before,
a joy propos’d; behind a dream.
All
this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To
shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
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