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And the rest is rust and stardust.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.

... All at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other; hopelessly, I should add, because that frenzy of mutual possession might have been assuaged only by our actually imbibing and assimilating every particle of each other's soul and flesh; but there we were, unable even to mate as slum children would have so easily found an opportunity to do so.

- Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov