When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once.

Every bond is a bond to sorrow.

Let us leave theories there and return to here's hear.

You ask me why I don’t love you, but surely you must believe I am very fond of you and if to desire to possess a person wholly, to admire and honour that person deeply, and to seek to secure that person’s happiness in every way is to “love” then perhaps my affection for you is a kind of love. I will tell you this that your soul seems to me to be the most beautiful and simple soul in the world and it may be because I am so conscious of this when I look at you that my love or affection for you loses much of its violence.

The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue.

He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself: A day of dappled seaborne clouds.

My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out.