There is no way that someone can explain to someone else how much they love them.
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The object of these affections will either feel loved; or they will not.
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Love is not an elemental quality, like nitrogen or zinc.
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It has shades and degrees and differing levels of flavour or intensity. Like tomatoes, or coffee.
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The love that proclaims itself the loudest could be but an insipid imitation of the love that barely whispers.
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Blog Archive
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2007
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December
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- the fidelity of pets
- look carefully before you cross the road
- as wordsworth and others observed
- the warrior
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- sparkle
- in the library
- the nietzschean hippy
- note to parents
- madonna's sagacity
- ends and means
- the sunken italian garden in priors barton
- south west london tales 769002
- the long haul
- a 'runter'
- provisions
- in order to break the pattern
- protection
- attributes
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December
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