"The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all round him. She had become a physical necessity." George Orwell, 1984 . . . . . . I sigh, upon wistful sigh, Oh Boop! You have me, so deep! Will
“You know not, yet, the sort of love that strikes like a lightning bold; that clutches hold of you by the heart, as irrevocably as death; that becomes the lodestar by which you steer the rest of your life.” Juliet Marillier, Daughter of the Forest . . . . . . Boop, I am yours, and always will be, forever, Will
