“The feelings we live throughin love and in lonelinessare simply, for us,what high tideand low tide are to the sea.”

“and it seemed to me that we was like seafarers, and the tober was the ocean. We was passing the landlubbers by. We gawped at each other, us from our ships, and them from their shores, but the gap between us was so big we couldn’t cross it. It was high tide or low tide, or whatever tide would prevent us from dropping anchor and rowing out to them, to exchange gifts and brides, gods and diseases”

“Now I am beginning to live a little and feel less like a sick oyster at low tide.”

“Moon and SeaYou are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:The tide of hope swells high within my breast,And hides the rough dark rocks of life's unrestWhen your fond eyes smile near in perigee.But when that loving face is turned from me,Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear,And earth's dim coast-line seems a thing to fear.You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea.”

“You think it is so different because you live here in this time, in this place, because I'm from the far side of the sea. But we are attached by the water between us. It is the same tide and moon, the same sea, love, fear, losing, and death. Love does not change with time. The love that fills us and empties us, that clips our wings so thatwe must decide whether to learn to fly after that. To love or to fear.”

“A love gone bad, a sea of bitterness: such an everyday thing. As ordinary as the tide, and perhaps as relentless. But tides turned, too.”