Let Me Feel Now What Sharp Distress

I Never Thought Before, That There Was A Woman In The World Who Could Affect Me So Much By Saying So Little. But Don't Be Hard In Your Construction Of Me. You Don't Know What My State Of Mind Towards You Is. You Don't Know How You Haunt And Bewilder Me. You Don't Know How The Cursed Carelessness That Is Over-officious In Helping Me At Every Other Turning Of My Life Won't Help Me Here. You Have Struck It Dead, I Think, And I Sometimes Wish You Had Struck Me Dead Along With It.

I Can See Others In The Sunlight; I Can See Our Boats' Crews And Our Athletic Young Men On The Glistening Water, Or Speckled With The Moving Lights Of Sunlit Leaves; But I Myself Am Always In The Shadow Looking On. Not Unsympathetically, - God Forbid! - But Looking On Alone, Much As I Looked At Sylvia From The Shadows Of The Ruined House, Or Looked At The Red Gleam Shining Through The Farmer's Windows, And Listened To The Fall Of Dancing Feet, When All The Ruin Was Dark That Night In The Quadrangle.

A Silent Look Of Affection And Regard When All Other Eyes Are Turned Coldly Away-the Consciousness That We Possess The Sympathy And Affection Of One Being When All Others Have Deserted Us-is A Hold, A Stay, A Comfort, In The Deepest Affliction, Which No Wealth Could Purchase, Or Power Bestow.

Battledore And Shuttlecock's A Wery Good Game, Vhen You An't The Shuttlecock And Two Lawyers The Battledores, In Which Case It Gets Too Exciting To Be Pleasant.

You Anticipate What I Would Say, Though You Cannot Know How Earnestly I Say It, How Earnestly I Feel It, Without Knowing My Secret Heart, And The Hopes And Fears And Anxieties With Which It Has Long Been Laden. Dear Doctor Manette, I Love Your Daughter Fondly, Dearly, Disinterestedly, Devotedly. If Ever There Were Love In The World, I Love Her.