30/36 Every cloud which overshadows the brow of my beloved, sweeps like a tempest over my own. A kind word falling from her lips makes me happy for days; and when she turns away from me with coldness and indifference, I feel like one driven about as Orestes by the Furies." "You really are in love!" cried Moritz. "I will take back what I have said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the human heart can suffer, even unhappy love." Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: "I do not call this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in the very perception of it lies happiness. We are only wretched when we lose self-control. |