In The East Men Know Panic, But

Words Dazzle And Deceive Because They Are Mimed By The Face. But Black Words On A White Page Are The Soul Laid Bare.

She Realized For The First Time That Two People Can Never Reach Each Others Deepest Feelings And Instincts, That They Spend Their Lives Side By Side, Linked It May Be, But Not Mingled, And That Each One's Inmost Being Must Go Through Life Eternally Alone.

To Love Very Much Is To Love Inadequately; We Love-that Is All. Love Cannot Be Modified Without Being Nullified. Love Is A Short Word But It Contains Everything. Love Means The Body, The Soul, The Life, The Entire Being. We Feel Love As We Feel The Warmth Of Our Blood, We Breathe Love As We Breathe The Air, We Hold It In Ourselves As We Hold Our Thoughts. Nothing More Exists For Us. Love Is Not A Word; It Is A Wordless State Indicated By Four Letters.

I Love The Night Passionately. I Love It As I Love My Country, Or My Mistress, With An Instinctive, Deep, And Unshakeable Love. I Love It With All My Senses: I Love To See It, I Love To Breathe It In, I Love To Open My Ears To Its Silence, I Love My Whole Body To Be Caressed By Its Blackness. Skylarks Sing In The Sunshine, The Blue Sky, The Warm Air, In The Fresh Morning Light. The Owl Flies By Night, A Dark Shadow Passing Through The Darkness; He Hoots His Sinister, Quivering Hoot, As Though He Delights In The Intoxicating Black Immensity Of Space.

Love Is Always Love, Come Whence It May. A Heart That Beats At Your Approach, An Eye That Weeps When You Go Away Are Things So Rare, So Sweet, So Precious That They Must Never Be Despised.