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Let me not to the mar­riage of true minds
Admit imped­i­ments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alter­ation finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tem­pests and is nev­er shak­en;
It is the star to every wan­der­ing bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be tak­en.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
With­in his bend­ing sickle’s com­pass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I nev­er writ, nor no man ever loved.

— William Shake­speare


Let me not to the marriage of true minds…

admit impediments marriage minds