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I’m reminded that although we may be Knights, she’s our Queen, and we will follow her wherever she leads.
“The light you have in you shines so brightly, is so strong, that you can take any amount of darkness, and burn it away. People often mistake goodness as a weakness, but you are stronger than all of us, my darling. We would truly be lost without you.”
“You are my light, Lilly. My soul. Everything that I am, or ever will be, is yours and yours alone. And when we take our final breaths on this earth, our souls will remain bound, travelling the winds together for all eternity.”
“I feel like I’ve loved you for my whole life, Lilly,” he whispers back, his own voice just as choked as mine. “I just needed to find you.”
“‘Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.’”
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.’”
It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for. They’ll dance in your blood, leaving crimson footsteps in the snow just because it looks pretty.
If anyone goes near our girl, they won’t see the sunrise.
“We make our own luck in this world, Pretty Girl.”
You are our beating heart, and our souls are bound together for all eternity.”
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle’s compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.’”
“You and I are the stuff that dreams are made of, my darling,” he tells me, his voice strong yet there’s a rasp to it, too. “We are what the stars envy, what the moon longs for, and what the legends of old tell tales of. Our love is more than this world, Lilly. More than a piece of paper with a new surname. And it will remain long after we are gone from the earth.”
