“...the monk beat me to break my spirit, incensed I knew Acquinas - angry, I knew his riddle - beauty is what is pleasing to the eye - he wasn't...”

“...you knew I was confused, tormented, but you enticed me - led me on...”

“...you can be angry and silent, but it's no use - there's no distance in the spirit - besides, my words touch you more softly than my hands...”

“...maybe I am just your priest - or a churl - perhaps you mistrust me the way the medievals mistrusted monks...”

“...I lost my illusions in a black rain of bitterness - now what do you see in my eyes? How can you still love me? How can I be tender? ...”

“...I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me...”

“...it's always somebody's fault - I blame you for my helpless love - do you think I chose this? Your beauty compelled me...”