• What is this gypsy passion for separation, this readiness to rush off when we've just met? My head rests in my hands as I realize, looking into the night that no one turning over our letters has yet understood how completely and how deeply faithless we are, which is to say: how true we are to ourselves.

    Marina Tsvetaeva (2011). “Bride of Ice: New Selected Poems”, p.32, Carcanet