And I, what is my crime I cannot tell, unless it be a crime to have loved too well. How can I tell the many thousand ways by which the heart keeps the secrets it betrays? I know not, I ask not, if guilt is in that heart. I do not love thee, nor can I say why.
Night without a morning. Open your heart and take it in.
Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and without expectation. We shall never, never part. My life, my all that's mine! How can I tell the signals and the signs by which one heart another heart divines? Farewell love, and all thy laws for ever.
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