NightingaleIf your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. / Darling, darling. I live in you, and you would die for me. I love you so / You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish. How jealous I am you cannot know. You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me, and hating me through death and after.
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