# Newsletters > Shakespeare's Sonnet-a-Day >  Sonnet #40

## Admin

Sonnet #40

XL.

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.

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## dramasnot6

For being in love,the voice of this sonnet is awfully reasonable and demonstrates some very kind,balanced thinking. I hope the poor guy doesn't turn into a doormat  :Tongue: 

This is a beautiful sonnet,full of unarmed truths. "it is a greater grief/To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury." strikes me as very wise,almost poignant. A sort of "Make Love,Not War" message. 

"Kill me with spites"-this is where I get the feeling the voice may be a bit of a sucker for punishment/have doormat tendencies. I have known too many a male and female who almost beg of their lover to cause them pain and then take them back. We are all fools in love,truly.

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