So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
I despised my arrival on this earth and I despise my departure; it is a tragedy.
The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
There is nothing so confining as the prisons of our own perceptions.