“You are so inconvenient to my existence. That I can't even stand to look at you. I look at myself in the mirror. And you stare back. You are me and I am you. This inconvenient existence. One living, the other dying. You consume my existence. And I let you. 'Cause I love you.”

“You are mine, woman, and I am yours. Until you, my life was desolate. I existed, but I didn't truly live. Now I live, even in my death.”

“I exist for you. And I live for you. And I live to love you.”

“You are everything to me, my sun, my moon, the air I breathe. Nothing exists except you. I love you.”

“You will follow me, if we are what we are, you and I, if we live, if the world exists, if you know the meaning of this moment and can't let it slip by, as others let it slip, into the senselessness of the unwilled and unreached.”

“Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new: late have I loved you. And see, you were within and I was in the external world and sought you there, and in my unlovely state I plunged into those lovely created things which you made. You were with me, and I was not with you. The lovely things kept me far from you, though if they did not have their existence in you, they had no existence at all. You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.”