Carpe diem

Puck: Yet but three? Come one more;  two of both kinds make up four.           [Enter Hermia.] Here she comes, curst and sad:  Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad. A Midsummer's Night Dream,  3.2.440 Shakespeare, William. 450th birthday weekend! Straight from the archives, I've written this a couple of months back.  Presenting, 'After effects of reading Shakespearean plays.'  Shakespeare said, "expectation is the root to all heartache." She said she didn't want much from him, but waited for him to talk. She said she loved talking to him, but thought he would love her. She said she doesn't care for him, but silently prayed for him. She said she finds him weird, but knows he is different from the rest. She said she can’t be with him, but wished he would never leave. She said she wasn't expecting anything, but realized ...

"What if I told you that  love  is stronger than gravity?", he said. She simply smiled at him and looked away. "No, really. Now I know why I am so attracted to you", he sat beside her and took her hand into his, feeling her soft skin, he tightened his grip. "You think we should let Sir Issac Newton know about it?", she mocked him. "I am sure as hell he already knew about it quite well, remember what he said, ' Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.'" "That was Albert Einstein, genius", she cannot be wrong he thought.  "But, you got my point, right?", he looked into her eyes, expectantly. "Which is trying to prove that you got bored studying that book on Astrophysics", she winked. "No, my point is to prove that my heart races like one of those Schumi's cars when I am around you and every single cell in my body inflates with happiness when I am thinking about you and probably...