Sheโs the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last thing I think of when I go to sleep, and the only thing I think about in between.
Tess Sharpe, Far From You
dearer you cannot be, for I love you so already, that it almost breaks my heart -- perhaps I can love you anew, every day of my life, every morning and evening -- Oh if you will let me, how happy I shall be!
Emily Dickinson's Letters to Susan Huntington Dickison
I slept with my hands in her hair. She woke in the night, once, and said my name again, and I answered her with her own. She smiled and I wondered if she had heard me. Our names, passing between us in breath.
Hannah Kent, Devotion