"I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it."
"Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good."
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Source: Amy Lowell (2009). “Sword Blades and Poppy Seed”, p.43, ReadHowYouWant.com
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