Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.
I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.