I feel an intense intimacy with those who have this loathing interest in me. Further than this I know what they mean I sympathize with them I understand them. There should be a name (as poetic as love) for this relationship between loather and loathed it is of the closest and more full of passion than incest.

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Time has no divisions to mark its passage there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.