Blanche Wagstaff says:


“If I think of you,
I quiver from head to foot.

If I think of you
tears flood my eyes.

If I pass you my heart quickens
to suffocation
and the blood seems to leave my body.

If I look into your eyes
a sudden fire burns in my veins.

If I touch you
I am as one possessed with madness;
my arms tremble and
my limbs totter beneath me.

To love you is to suffer
the pangs of an intolerable agony.”

Charlotte Eaton says:


It is necessary to me that your heart beats,
And that you inhale with conscious pleasure the soft spring air,
That you love light, color, action, and are ambitious,
That you love the beauty of the human face and form,
And portray them both with mastery;
That you grasp that which is not grasped by all,
And know that which is not knowable to all;
That you have eyes—for a purpose,
A heart—for a purpose,
And an inquisitive soul—for a purpose.

Carson McCullers says:


“There are the lover
and the beloved,
but these two come
from different countries.
Often the beloved is
only a stimulus
for all the stored-up love
which had lain quiet
within the lover
for a long time hitherto.
And somehow every lover knows this.
He feels in his soul that
his love is a solitary thing.
He comes to know a
new, strange loneliness
and it is this knowledge
which makes him suffer.”