"هؤلاء نساء فلاندرز ينتظرن الضّائعين، ينتظرنَ الضّائعين الذين أبداً لنْ يُغادروا الميناء، ينتظرن الضّائعين الّذين أبداً لن يجيء بهم القطار إلى أحضان هؤلاء النّ… - Ford Madox Ford

But the real fierceness of desire, the real heat of a passion long continued and withering up the soul of a man, is the craving for identity with the woman that he loves. He desires to see with the same eyes, to touch with the same sense of touch, to hear with the same ears, to lose his identity, to be enveloped, to be supported. For, whatever may be said of the relation of the sexes, there is no man who loves a woman that does not desire to come to her for the renewal of his courage, for the cutting asunder of his difficulties. And that will be the mainspring of his desire for her. We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist.

AT the slight creaking made by Macmaster in pushing open his door, Tietjens started violently. He was sitting in a smoking-jacket, playing patience engrossedly in a sort of garret bedroom. It had a sloping roof outlined by black oak beams, which cut into squares the cream-coloured patent distemper of the walls.

And Sylvia Tietjens wavered into the room.