“Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I making believe I see in you, a woman too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem?”

“Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you?”

“I don't love you because you're beautiful, you're beautiful because I love you.”

“Do you love me because I’m beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?”

“I don't want you because I expect you to swoop in and rescue me and make everything all right.I don't want you because you're beautiful. None of that matters. you could never be a bad bargain to me, because...you're you.And I love you.”

“I want to marry you, Malda - because I love you - because you are young and strong and beautiful - because you are wild and sweet and - fragrant, and - elusive, like the wild flowers you love. Because you are so truly an artist in your special way, seeing beauty and giving it to others. I love you because of all of this, because you are rational and highminded and capable of friendship - and in spite of your cooking!”“But - how do you want to live?”“As we did here - at first,” he said. “There was peace, exquisite silence. There was beauty - nothing but beauty. There were the clean wood odors and flowers and fragrances and sweet wild wind. And there was you - your fair self, always delicately dressed, with white firm fingers sure of touch in delicate true work. I loved you then.”