"She knew now that down in
the core of her own being she was
so shaped that nothing could
fit, fill, or satisfy
her heart but he himself.
"Nothing else really matters,"
she said to herself, "only to love him and
do what he tells me.
I don't know quite why it should be so,
but it is.
All the time it is suffering to love
and sorrow to love,
but it is lovely to love him in spite of this,
and if I should cease to do so,
I should cease to exist."


-Hinds Feet on High Places