Love, indeed! Who can have known love but me?
I stand alone.

Since the dull, unlovely world first jarred and trembled and began to move, there has not been another of my kind, nor has man suffered as I have suffered, and been crushed and torn and thrown aside to die, without even the mercy of a death-wound.

Describe it?
Tell it?
Look at me! I am both love's description and the epitaph on his gravestone.

In me he lived, me he tortured, with me he dies never to live again as he has lived this once.

There is no justice and no mercy! Think not that it is enough to love and that you will be loved in return.