No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.

Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face."

[The Autumnal]

Love, built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Screw pretty. I'd rather be strong. Pretty fades over time. Strength gets you through the bad shit.

It is well known that Beauty does not look with a good grace on the timid advances of Humor.