Oh, my dear wife! in a few days' time you will forgive me all my forgetfulness--I am forgetful sometimes, am I not?
Was I not harsh to you just now?
Be indulgent for a man who never ceases to think of you, whose toils are full of you--of us." "Enough, enough!" she said, "let us talk of it all to-night, dear friend.

I suffered from too much grief, and now I suffer from too much joy." "To-night," he resumed; "yes, willingly: we will talk of it.

If I fall into meditation, remind me of this promise.

To-night I desire to leave my work, my researches, and return to family joys, to the delights of the heart--Pepita, I need them, I thirst for them!" "You will tell me what it is you seek, Balthazar ?" "Poor child, you cannot understand it." "You think so?
Ah! my friend, listen; for nearly four months I have studied chemistry that I might talk of it with you.

I have read Fourcroy, Lavoisier, Chaptal, Nollet, Rouelle, Berthollet, Gay-Lussac, Spallanzani, Leuwenhoek, Galvani, Volta,--in fact, all the books about the science you worship.