excites me to an unfamiliar degree

My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.

Don't kiss me

Don't kiss me,
you don't know who I am
but chase me,
please chase me
until i'm not ashamed
I love you...
I love you
when you are not around

now see me
just like I have planned
these beautiful lines
I'm sure you understand

You, rare, unearthly thing

We‘re good friends, aren‘t we?

Yes, sir.

I have a strange feeling with regard to you as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave, I‘m afraid that cord of commune will snap. And I have a notion that I‘ll take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you‘d forget me.

How? I have lived a full life here. I have not been trampled on, I have not been petrified, I have not been excluded from every glimpse of what is bright. I have known you, Mr Rochester. And it strikes me with anguish to be torn from you.

Then why must you leave?

Because of your wife!

I have no wife.

But you ought to be married!

Jane, you must stay.

And become nothing to you? Am I a machine without feelings? Do you think that because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, that I am soulless and heartless? I have as much soul as you and full as much heart. And if God had blessed me with beauty and wealth, I could make it as hard for you to leave me as it is for I to leave you. I am not speaking to you, through mortal flesh, it is my spirit that addresses your spirit, as it would pass through the grave and stood in God‘s feet: equal, as we are.

As we are!

I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you.

Then let your will decide your destiny. I offer you my hand, my heart. Jane, I ask you to pass through life at my side. You are my equal and my likeness. Will you marry me?

Are you mocking me?

You doubt me.

Entirely. Your bride is Miss Ingram.

Miss Ingram? She is the machine without feelings. It‘s you. You, rare, unearthly thing. Poor and obscure as you are, please accept me as your husband. I must have you for my own.

You wish me to be your wife?

I swear it.

You love me?

I do.

Then, sir, I will marry you. 

тя е феята на измислените неща

Тя е началото, а аз съм края,
на пътуването ни към безкрая в Рая

И тя е надеждата и страстта,
тя е илюзия, толкова истинска,
колкото е любовта

Тя е живота, а аз го живея,
тя е песента, която пея

Baby don't forget my name

when the morning breaks us...

Your cheek is softly by the sun
Your arms around me come undone
Makes my heart beat like a drum

oh, your touch so bittersweet...

and
YOU ALWAYS WANT WHAT YOU'RE RUNNING FROM

Still not too old to die young

I chased your love around a figure 8,
I need you more than I can take

wearing the sun in her hair

The house
where trees are laden with
fruit. Where phlox, forsythia,
and marigold grow. It's
the house where the woman
stands in the doorway
wearing the sun in her hair. The one
who's been waiting
all this time.
The woman who loves you.
The one who can say,
"What's kept you?"

Raymond Craver