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— Hilda Doolittle"Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor."
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Moving stranger, Does it really matter, As long as you're not afraid to feel? Touch me, hold me. How my open arms ache! Try to fall for me.
— Kate Bush
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But there is no such man; for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.
— William Shakespeare
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