Part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.

I feel myself beginning to love you instead of just need you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone in my life, not really – just needed them, wanted them to love me to possess me – to become such a part of someone I could lose my frightened self…

“They were miles apart, but their souls found a way to snuggle.”

“Between the long lights of dusk and dawn, there’s nothing I will not give you, nowhere, you cannot touch me… I am, all night, everywhere yours, from pillow to lips. And all day full of want…and wait.”

I always have such need to merely talk to you. Even when I have nothing to talk about – with you I just seem to go right ahead and sort of invent it. I invent it for you. Because I never seem to run out of tenderness for you and because I need to feel you near. Excuse the bad writing and excuse the emotional overflow. What I mean to say, perhaps, is that, in a way, I am never empty of you; not for a moment, an instant, a single second.

He missed [her], the ease between them, her solid and comforting presence.

But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.

The hours between 12am and 6am have a funny habit of making you feel like you’re either on top of the world, or under it.