My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; Where can we find two better hemispheres Without sharp north, without declining west? Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally; If our two loves be one, or thou and I Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.
Isolde: Yesterday at the market, I saw a couple holding hands... and I realized we'll never do that. Never anything like it. No picnics or unguarded smiles. No rings. Just... stolen moments that leave too quickly.