If the air narrated me about you I would want to lose myself in the wind, there I would listen to your words and sighs, there I would be close to your soul and to the warmth of your heart.
I know only one duty: to love.
Love is the most impressive, most bright, most wonderful thing. A magic potion. The material all human desires are made of.
Love does not look in the eye, but looking together toward the same goal.
I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe.
For true love nothing is impossible.
It is a misfortune to not be loved but an insult to not be loved anymore.
If I should like someone a lot, I never say their name to others: it would be like giving part of them away.
I know. I know that I shall never again meet anything or anybody who will inspire me with passion. You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it. I know I'll never jump again.
And she knew, too, that neither dæmon would change now, having felt a lover's hands on them. These were their shapes for life: they would want no other.