But a woman who looks at a man, and feels--oh, it's shameful! I could hardly take my eyes off him.

If he had looked at me in return, I don't know what I should have done--I burn when I think of it.

He was absorbed in his suffering and his sorrow.

My last look at his beautiful face was on the pier, before they took me away.

The perfect image of him has been in my heart ever since.