I suppose it is that sickness and weakness are selfish things and turn our inner eyes and sympathy on ourselves, whilst health and strength give love rein, and in thought and feeling he can wander where he wills.

I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.

I do not lack the courage to tell you how I feel. What I fear is how you will react to it.

Tell me about it dear; for there is nothing which interests you which will not be dear to me

Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when there are lots of girls about who would worship the very ground he trod on?

and so, as you love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and tenses of the verb, I send you simply his 'love' instead.

No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.

You yourself never loved; you never love!Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?

You are nearest and dearest and all the world to me. Our souls are knit into one, for all life and all time. - Mina Harker