“ The proper function of the critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it. ”
For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
~ D.h. Lawrence
Nobody knows you.You don't know yourself.And I, who am half in love with you,What am I in love with?My own imaginings?
It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration. She knew she had always feared it, for it left her helpless; she feared it still, lest if she adored him too much, then she would lose herself, become effaced, and she did not want to be effaced, a slave, like a savage woman. She must not become a slave. She feared her adoration, yet she would not at once fight against it.
A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not having lived it.
