“...you forget love - though you fled from them, you secretly loved the monsters of your childhood...”

“...you ask me why I compare you to stars - it's simple - that's where your goddess has fled...”

“...no good writing flows from a polluted well - you can write about monsters, but you can't be one...”

“...I can’t grasp the stars, but I love them – in the same way, I love you...”

“...I'm the last person to ask about unrequited love - I've run away to the Moon and fled to its valleys...”

“... you are lovely - God has painted every feature of your soul ...”

“...Ah, but the Moon my Love is jealous, and can you blame him? You outshine him with your virtues...”