"I have no companion but Love, no beginning, no end, no dawn. The Soul calls from within me: 'You, ignorant of the way of Love, set Me free.'"

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I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that whatsoever might be the future date of my History, the life of the historian must be short and precarious.

— Edward Gibbon