“I have a cold fire in my heart, and it freezes.”

“Snow-quiet, sleep-silent, only the fun-fire faraway songsinging of children; and the room was blue with cold, colder than the cold of fairytales: lie down my heart among the igloo flowers of snow.”

“You are ice and fire,The touch of you burns my hands like snow.You are cold and flame.You are the crimson of amaryllis,The silver of moon-touched magnolias.When I am with you,My heart is a frozen pondGleaming with agitated torches.”

“But first my feet will freeze and thenmy legs and then my insides, they will all turn to ice. And my blood, too, andmy heart, and I will forget.”

“My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To FireMy love is like to ice, and I to fire;How comes it then that this her cold so greatIs not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,But harder grows the more I her entreat?Or how comes it that my exceeding heatIs not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold;But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,And feel my flames augmented manifold!What more miraculous thing may be told,That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice;And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,Should kindle fire by wonderful device!Such is the power of love in gentle mind,That it can alter all the course of kind.”

“The heart may freeze, or it can burn. The pain will ease and I can learn. There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as, my last.”