Heat cannot be separated from fire, or beauty from The Eternal.
He who best discerns the worth of time is most distressed whenever time is lost.
He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help is as unkind as if he had refused it.
He woke her then, and trembling and obedient, she ate that burning heart out of his hand. Weeping, I saw him then depart from me. Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her? Find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?