John Fletcher Quotes on Sadness
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Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that's gone; Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again.
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Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly! There's naught in this life sweet But only melancholy; O sweetest melancholy!
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Drink today, and drown all sorrow; You shall perhaps not do't tomorrow.