“How can I fix this? Do I want this fixed? I wouldn't want to live not knowing the goodness of Susannah. She is fresh air, and warmth, and mornings in July. What is there to fix? There is evil in my yearning, I know, I just can't see where yet. And does it matter? There is no way that she has the same feeling that she found in me. We aren't a match, not like that. Susannah is golden sunlight, and I am a struggling sapling at best, crippled by heliotropism; she does not need me the way that I need her. But then, how could she recognise this odd sort of attraction if she did not know it herself?”