This Miracle Of Me Is Mine To

He Wanted Her. He Knew Where To Find Her. He Waited. It Amused Him To Wait, Because He Knew That The Waiting Was Unbearable To Her. He Knew That His Absence Bound Her To Him In A Manner More Complete And Humiliating Than His Presence Could Enforce. He Was Giving Her Time To Attempt An Escape, In Order To Let Her Know Her Own Helplessness When He Chose To See Her Again.

It Is A Policeman’s Duty To Retrieve Stolen Property And Return It To Its Owners. But When Robbery Becomes The Purpose Of The Law, And The Policeman’s Duty Becomes, Not Protection, But The Plunder Of Property - Then It Is An Outlaw Who Has To Become A Policeman.

That Love Is Reverence, And Worship, And Glory, And The Upward Glance. Not A Bandage For Dirty Sores. But They Don’t Know It. Those Who Speak Of Love Most Promiscuously Are The Ones Who’ve Never Felt It. They Make Some Sort Of Feeble Stew Out Of Sympathy, Compassion, Contempt, And General Indifference, And They Call It Love. Once You’ve Felt What It Means To Love As You And I Know It – The Total Passion For The Total Height – You’re Incapable Of Anything Less.

She Was Incapable Of Love For Any Object Not Of Her Own Choice And She Resented Anyone's Demand For It.

For The First Time Since Her Return, She Felt Pain, A Violent Pain, But It Made Her Feel Alive, Because It Was Worth Feeling.