... It seems to me, to myself, that no woman was ever before to any man what you are to me - the fullness must be in proportion, you know, to the vacancy... and only I know what was behind - the long wilderness without the blossoming rose... and the capacity for happiness, like a black gaping hole, before this silver flooding. Is it wonderful that I should stand as in a dream, and disbelieve - not you - but my own fate? Was ever any one taken suddenly from a lampless dungeon and placed upon the pinnacle of a mountain, without the head turning round and the heart turning faint, as mine do? And you love me more, you say? .... How shall I ever prove what my heart is to you? How will you ever see it as I feel it?

Robert Browning to Elizabeth Barrett Browning