O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination: then you were
Yourself again after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so.

The real magic for happiness lies in being oneself. In fact, it remains a utopian idea most of the time as we all tend to imitate others. We compare and contrast and live a miserable life! All the joys and toils in life has to be faced by oneself. There will be many to share your joys and but there will be very few to share your sorrows. You will be all alone. Therefore, be yourself. And live happily.

 

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