It would be difficult to give you all the details of our new life.

It was made up of a series of little childish events, charming for us but insignificant to any one else.

You know what it is to be in love with a woman, you know how it cuts short the days, and with what loving listlessness one drifts into the morrow.

You know that forgetfulness of everything which comes of a violent confident, reciprocated love.

Every being who is not the beloved one seems a useless being in creation.