And in the midst of briars it blows. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy. The loathsome prostitution of a hand without a heart! Love is the only way to grasp another human being in the innermost core of his personality.
I know not when our eyes may meet. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you. And, hating no one, loving all. What have I done? What horrid crime committed?
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