“I know a man who is in love with my friend. He loves her absolutely. The only thing he wants in return is for her to love him.” Saiman arched his eyebrows, imitating me. “And?” "You’re the exact opposite of him. You lack the capacity to love, so you want to smother mine as well.”

“He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud: I love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”

“his love was too much for him, he felt paralyzed, he wanted to sleep inside her lungs and breathe her blood and be smothered.”

“Unconditional love. That’s what he wants to give her and what he wants from her. People should give without wanting anything in return. All other giving is selfish. But he is being selfish a little, isn’t he, by wanting her to love him in return? He hopes that she loves him in return. Is it possible for a person to love without wanting love back? Is anything so pure? Or is love, by its nature, a reciprocity, like oceans and clouds, an evaporating of seawater and a replenishing of rain?”

“I love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”

“You’re in love with me? Why have you never said anything?” He demanded. “No one wants to tell someone she loves him, and have him not say it back,” her eyes dropped and she said it so softly he had to strain to hear it.”