"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago.Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you."
--Jane Austen, Persausion
