She huffs, feeling overwhelmed with the thought of it. Words are easy for her, but this seems insurmountable. Instead, she borrows words, like the poet she is.

"'Indeed indeed, I cannot tell,
Though I ponder on it well,
Which were easier to state,
All my love or all my hate.'"

She sighs. "It is both. I could not have one without the other. I could not hate without love or love without hate. They are so close, the two feelings. The intensity of them feels the same to me."