Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.

sorrow is easier than guilt.

... and my love stays bitterly glowing, spasms of it will not sleep, and I am helpless and thirsty and need shade but there is no one to cover me- not even God.

But my future is a secret. / It is as shy as a mole.

In a letter (no matter how quickly it is written or honestly or freely or lovingly) it is more possible to be loving and lovable, more possible to reach out and to take in ... I feel I have somehow deceived you into thinking this is really a human relationship. It is a letter relationship between humans.

As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love.

the marriage twists, holds firm, a sailor's knot.