Your only chance of survival, if you are sincerely smitten, lies in hiding this fact from the woman you love, of feigning a casual detachment under all circumstances. What sadness there is in this simple observation! What an accusation against man! However, it had never occurred to me to contest this law, nor to imagine disobeying it: love makes you weak, and the weaker of the two is oppressed, tortured and finally killed by the other, who in his or her turn oppresses, tortures and kills without having evil intentions, without even getting pleasure from it, with complete indifference; that’s what men, normally, call love.
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Random Passages is a random collection of memorable writing.
Recent Posts
- She told stories, gave them news, went errands in the town, and on the sly lent the big girls some novel
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- If I figured anything out in these last six years, it is this: human beings are unknowable
- If I could have ceased what pendulums swung, or wheels turned, or water clocks emptied
- “No, Plymouth would suit me well enough,”
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