Well
here is a book that I read once. It is considered of some importance in the evolution of English literature, and that's why I read it. But I defy anyone to read it and enjoy it.
Quote:
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How frantic are those lovers which are carried away with the gay glistering of the fine face? The beauty whereof is parched with the summer's blaze and chipped with the winter's blast: which is of so short continuance, that it fadeth before one perceive it flourish
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