"My sweet rose, my delicate flower,my lily of lilies... I am going to see if I cannot make the bitter waters sweet by the intensity of love I bear you. I have had moments when I though it would never be wise to separate. Ah moments of weakness and madness! Now I see that I would have mutilated my life, ruined my art, broken the musical chords which make a perfect soul. Even covered with mud I shall praise you, from the deepest abysses I shall cry to you. In my solitude you will be with me. I am determined not to revolt but to accept every outrage through devotion to love, to let my body be dishonored so long as my soul may always keep the image of you. From your silken hair to your delicate feet, you are perfection to me. Pleasure hides love from us but pain reveals it in its essence... Oh, my love, you whom I cherish above all things, white narcissus in an unmown field, think of the burden which falls to you, a burden which love alone can light."

- Oscar Wilde