If you remain here in my shadow, in this environment of business affairs, you will not learn to look far ahead.

The day in which you lose me you will find yourself like the plant of which our poet Baltazar tells: grown in the water, its leaves wither at the least scarcity of moisture and a moment's heat dries it up.

Don't you understand?
You are almost a young man, and yet you weep!' These reproaches hurt me and I confessed that I loved you.

My father reflected for a time in silence and then, placing his hand on my shoulder, said in a trembling voice, 'Do you think that you alone know how to love, that your father does not love you, and that he will not feel the separation from you?
It is only a short time since we lost your mother, and I must journey on alone toward old age, toward the very time of life when I would seek help and comfort from your youth, yet I accept my loneliness, hardly knowing whether I shall ever see you again.

But you must think of other and greater things; the future lies open before you, while for me it is already passing behind; your love is just awakening, while mine is dying; fire burns in your blood, while the chill is creeping into mine.