One Sometimes Weeps Over One's Illusions With

The Kiss Itself Is Immortal. It Travels From Lip To Lip, Century To Century, From Age To Age. Men And Women Garner These Kisses, Offer Them To Others And Then Die In Turn.

One Sometimes Weeps Over One's Illusions With As Much Bitterness As Over A Death.

There Are Some Delightful Places In This World Which Have A Sensual Charm For The Eyes. One Loves Them With A Physical Love. We People Who Are Attracted By The Countryside Cherish Fond Memories Of Certain Springs, Certain Woods, Certain Ponds, Certain Hills, Which Have Become Familiar Sights And Can Touch Our Hearts Like Happy Events. Sometimes Indeed The Memory Goes Back Towards A Forest Glade, Or A Spot On A River Bank Or An Orchard In Blossom, Glimpsed Only Once On A Happy Day, But Preserved In Our Heart.

There Is Only One Good Thing In Life, And That Is Love. And How You Misunderstand It! How You Spoil It! You Treat It As Something Solemn Like A Sacrament, Or Something To Be Bought, Like A Dress.

We Breathe Love As We Breathe Air; We Hold It In Ourselves As We Hold Our Thoughts. Nothing More Exists For Us.