"And If you were to love me – yes, I dare to refer to that sweet and ever nonexistent 'if' – I would not hesitate to return ever affection. For if your true admiration, affection, or plea of companionship were mine, I could not withhold myself from some unalterable engagement. But, ever silent in the term of feelings, you have left my heart alone, wondering. This, too, was not enough to remove my...dare I say love for you?

I fear that I loved you. I hope you aren't offended.

Whatever my regard to you then, I was never told of your regard to me. That will be my greatest regret, that I was never man enough to ask you outright. Nevermind, my dearest, Samuel. No more room for apologies I suppose.

I would like it to be written in the record that I did love you. Because what would a record be without the truth?"

George adjusted his tie and set his flowers on Samuel's grave. He hoped it would be quiet there on the hill; the quiet was what Samuel loved, even if he never loved George.