What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home. I want to be held. I don't want you to come too close. I want you to scoop me up and bring me home at nights. I don't want to tell you where I am. I want to keep a place among the rocks where no one can find me. I want to be with you.

Love, they say, enslaves and passion is a demon and many have been lost for love . . . When I fell in love it was as though I looked into a mirror for the first time and saw myself. This was me. And when I had looked at myself and grown accustomed to who I was, I was afraid to hate parts of me because I wanted to be worthy of the mirror bearer.

your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before you, I replied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm you play upon me, drumming me taught.

My own heart, like this wild place, has never been visited, and I do not know whether it could sustain life.

Language is what stops the heart exploding.

The truth is that you can divide your heart in all sorts of interesting ways - a little here, a little there, most banked at home, some of it coined out for a flutter. But love cleaves through the mind's mathematics. Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be. How will you heal your heart when love has split it in two?

If you should leave me, my heart will turn to water and flood away.

The body can endure compromise and the mind can be seduced by it. Only the heart protests. The heart. Carbon-based primitive in a silicon world.

Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be.