So he says....

The Bard tells us:

"Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! Its is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never
shaken;
It is the star to very 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."

What says you?(: