That's what I love you for: your inability to perceive all my hideous flaws.

The space that I can call mine, that isn't full of Henry, is so small that my ideas have become small.

Being in love is…anxious,” he said. “Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is…you’re naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all…I wanted her to see me and to love me even though she knew everything I am, and I knew her