If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever. He doesn't love you. But I love you. I want you to have your own thoughts and ideas and feelings, even when I hold you in my arms. Forster, A Room With A View Suggested by 10. It surprised him that strangers didn't stop each other on the street to say I love you. When I am old and alone, I will remember that I once held something truly beautiful. Watching her jaw move and collecting her words one by one as they spill from her lips. I don't deserve them. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one. My god, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. It is a consuming of oneself and the past. I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that. I could die for you. I cannot breathe without you. His hat was old, his coat was threadbare - there were holes at his elbows; the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul. You said I killed you—haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe—I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul! I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name. Beagle, The Last Unicorn Suggested by Megan Elizabeth on Facebook 34. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel—I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you—and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one. Is love this safety I feel in our silences? Is it this belonging, this completeness? Tell a man to explain how he dropped into hell! I never had a PREFERENCE for her, any more than I have a preference for breathing. No other woman exists by the side of her. I would rather touch her hand if it were dead, than I would touch any other woman's living. All that was needed was shrewd questioning... Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat--your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.
