Sappho — "Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables."
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
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"Be kind to me, Gongyla, I ask you..."
"My tongue is broken, a subtle fire runs beneath my skin, my eyes see nothing, my ears hum, cold sweat pours down me, a trembling seizes all my body, and I am greener than grass."
"You burn me."
"I would rather see her lovely step and the radiant sparkle of her face than all the chariots of Lydia."
"No honey for me, if it comes with a bee."
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