Literature
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 54
O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seemBy that sweet ornament which truth doth give.The rose looks fair, but fairer…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 53
What is your substance, whereof are you made,That millions of strange shadows on you tend?Since every one hath, every one,…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 52
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key,Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,The which he will not…
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