He Had Taken George, My Beloved George,

Edward Lives As If There Is No Tomorrow, Richard As If He Wants No Tomorrow, And George As Though Someone Should Give It To Him For Free.

He May Well Speak French And Latin And Half A Dozen Languages, But Since He Has Nothing To Say – What Good Are They?

When It's Done, It's Done. And No One Will Know Until It's Done.

She Is Melusina, The Water Goddess, And She Is Found In Hidden Springs And Waterfalls In Any Forest In Christendom, Even In Those As Far Away As Greece. (...) A Man May Love Her If He Keeps Her Secret And Lets Her Alone When She Wants To Bathe, And She May Love Him In Return Until He Breaks His Word, As Men Always Do, And She Sweeps Him Into The Depths With Her Fishy Tail, And Turns His Faithless Blood To Water. The Tragedy Of Melusina, Whatever Language Tells It, Whatever Tune It Sings, Is That A Man Will Always Promise More Than He Can Do To A Woman He Cannot Understand.

I Had Never Seen A Woman In Such Despair Before. It Was Worse Than Death, It Was A Constant Longing For Death And A Constant Rejection Of Life. She Lived Like Darkness In Her Own Day.