Till we meet again, my heart awaits you.” “till we meet again, you will trouble my dreams” - Alice Borchardt

Desire was only another weapon, like hunger, loneliness, and cold arrayed against him by his tormentors

For what is a flower but life’s expressed passion for itself. Sudden and brief, but certain and eternal at the same time

You should leave that place, my girl” “you know me better than that.” “yes, I do. Too brave for your own good. Too brave now, I think.” “would you have me any less?” “I’m sorry. No, I wouldn’t have you less.”