“I have a will to be what I am, and what I will be is only what I am”

“I am what I am, and what I am is what I am. I have a will to be what I am, and what I will be is only what I am. If I have a will to be, I will to be no more than what I was. If I was what I am willed to be, yet they ever will be wondering what I am or what I ever was. I want to change the Wall, and make my will. ”

“OUR TWO SOULS THEREFOREAll that was ablaze in the Field of Flowers! Pluck forth a bloom, and think on what has been; on centuries of betrayal, and pain, and misunderstanding...I am what I am, and what I am is what I am. I have a will to be what I am, and what I will be is only what I am. If I have a will to be, I will to be no more than what I was. If I was I am willed to be, yet they ever will be wondering what I am or what I ever was. I want to change the Wall, and make my Will.That I am that same wall, the truth is so.And this the cranny is, right and sinister,Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.Each pair adds up to every jointed piece; the bottom left is a square; bottom right is a square; top left is a square; top right is a square. The heart is a square too.WHICH ARE ONEAnd I am halfway through the orbit. And if you take half of the whole and make up pairs to equal me, you will soon use up all of the pairs.Now, look no further than the day. My alpha and my omega. Make of these two halves a whole. Take the song of equal number in the old king's book. Equal number of paces forward from the start. Equal number of paces backwards from the end - omitting only the single exit word. Amen to that.I am what I am, and what I am is what you will see.Count on me very carefully.ENDURE NOT YET A BREACH, BUT AN EXPANSION”

“Having declared a passion for his wildness, she had sought from the beginning to tame him.”

“A Man can Choose what he wants to be. A Gentleman doesn't have a Choice.”

“Now I think of the starling flocks that move across the stripped winter landscape at home; how you'll hear and look up to this great rush of birds, lifting and diving and turning. I think of the ravens, afloat on the air streams. Of the crows, going home at the fade of light, hundreds on hundreds, flowing and flowing, the winter sky filled with their tide.Dark birds, ruffianly dark birds, stronger than birds of light and better survivors. They are the undervoice, scavenging life, living off gleanings. Uncivilised. Shameless. Outside the law. They allow the return of the soul.”

“I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.”