Oh, my darling, wish you were here! And my dark soul is happy again, because it does not know how to be anything else for very long, and because the pain is a deep dark sea in which I would drown if I did not sail my little craft steadily over the surface, steadily towards a sun which will never rise.

My conscience is killing me, isn't it? And when you're immortal that can be a really long and ignominious death

Don't be a fool for the Devil, darling.

He had grieved for me, I'll give him that much. But then he is so good at grieving! He wears woe as others wear velvet; sorrow flatters him like the light of candles; tears become him like jewels.

The earth here is beautiful. And it still belongs to the dead.

None of us really changes over time. We only become more fully what we are.

And I loved this moment for all it's pain...We seemed for a moment like two parts of the same thing.