If I knew words enough, I could write the longest love letter in the world and never get tired - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Life is progressive, no matter what our intentions.

All that kept her from breaking was that it was not an image of strength that was leaving her; she would be just as strong without him.

He loved her, and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving — but he could not have her. So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.