Shakespeare's Sonnet 35

No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done:Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud:Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.All men make faults, and even I in this,Authorizing thy trespass with compare,Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense;Thy adverse party is thy advocate,And ’gainst myself a lawful plea commence:Such civil war is in my love and hate,That I an accessary needs must be,To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

Do not grieve any longer over what you have done. Roses have thorns, and clear, silvery fountains have mud. Clouds and eclipses darken both moon and sun, and disgusting worms live in the sweetest buds. Everyone makes mistakes, and I am making one myself by using these comparisons to justify your offense. I corrupt myself by soothing your wrongdoing, making excuses for your sins that go beyond the sins themselves. I bring reason to the defense of your lustful fault. Your opponent becomes your lawyer and begins a legal case against himself. Such a civil war rages between my love and hate that I must become an accomplice to that sweet thief who robs me so cruelly.