Neither Birth Nor Sex Forms A Limit

Everyone Else Is Just Cocktails.

I Have A Strange Feeling With Regard To You. As If I Had A String Somewhere Under My Left Ribs, Tightly Knotted To A Similar String In You. And If You Were To Leave I'm Afraid That Cord Of Communion Would Snap. And I Have A Notion That I'd Take To Bleeding Inwardly. As For You, You'd Forget Me.

Reader, I Literally Married Him.

Would You Not Be Happier If You Tried To Forget Her Severity, Together With The Passionate Emotions It Excited? Life Appears To Me Too Short To Be Spent In Nursing Animosity, Or Registering Wrongs.

I Have Little Left In Myself -- I Must Have You. The World May Laugh -- May Call Me Absurd, Selfish -- But It Does Not Signify. My Very Soul Demands You: It Will Be Satisfied, Or It Will Take Deadly Vengeance On Its Frame.