Oh cruel and wicked world!

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Why did you ever forge me to be? Let's talk about love. Hasn't love driven so many people to madness and despair? But without it would it even be worth being here?

It troubles me.

What a mockery of affection is this existence. Cupid's misshapen arrows curdle men's stomachs into woeful sentiments. Then all too often worms eat at the fleshy fruit of budding joys before their flower can impart its sweetness.

All's Well That Ends Well, Helena and Bertrand. How happy for them! But while some have comedy others meet tragic ends.

At least love is a sweet poison to rob a man of his breath. Of course I can't despise love like war. For war is inherently evil - but love is yet as equally deceitful.

There is no nation or king who surely is worth dying for as much as love. Yet the pain is so much greater when yearning for the arms of your eye's apple.

Romance that proclaims to be the sweetest bird pecks as though to disembowel in your sleep.

Antony and Cleopatra could not happily live. Their love only could blossom with fearful circumstances and misery. Once Caesar had Mark Antony on the brink of ruin only then could Cleopatra devote herself to him. By then it was too late, his suicide assured because his pride was defeated amidst fellow Romans he had been made a fool of. And Romeo and Juliet could only be in bliss for a few days til misfortunes heaped upon them.

Love's got a lot to answer for!

(In case you're wondering I've been watching the BBC boxset of William Shakespeare's plays that were broadcast in the '70s-'80s. Though I am not just posting this as a joke. It is a genuine reflection of my feelings.)

"Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel? Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, might stop a hole to keep the wind away. O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!"

I've been dying to find a place to throw that quote in, it's one of my favorites of Shakespeare! And now, to the rest of your post, I'll respond with yet another quote, from a far less depressive portion of writing:

"Tell me not, in mournful numbers, life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, was not spoken of the soul."

I like that positivity!! !!

Well ok, its clever stuff undoubtedly, but it all is just one persons take on it.

There's also the A-wop-bom-a-loo-mop-a-lomp-bom-bom school of thinking.