“I take her hand, as I did before. I speak to her, rather timidly and at random: "Carnal love isn't the whole of love."”

“I wish I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.”

“I did not love her, I did not even know her. And for all that, I was touched and conquered. I wanted to save her, to sacrifice myself for her, to commit a thousand follies! Strange thing! How does it happen that the presence of a woman overwhelms us so? Is it the power of her grace which enfolds us? Is it the seduction of her beauty and youth, which intoxicates one like wine?
Is it not rather the touch of Love, of Love the Mysterious, who seeks constantly to unite two beings, who tries his strength the instant he has put a man and a woman face to face?”

“The dreamer in her
Had fallen in love with me and she did not know it.
That moment the dreamer in me
Fell in love with her and I knew it”

“She was in pain and I loved her, sort of loved her, I guess, so I kind of had to love her pain, too.”

“I loved Molly. Or at least I told myself I did. Or, if what I felt for her was not love, it was at least a plausible imitation, a convincing substitute.”

“I am amused at my relations with her: left so ardent in January – and now what? Also I like her presence and her beauty. Am I in love with her? But what is love? Her being 'in love' with me, excites and flatters; and interests. What is this 'love?”

“How could I hurt her? She'd have to love me before I could do that.”

“To the moonlight that is visiting me tonight, As a gift, I want to give my loving heart to you. Before the arrival, I want to decorate my courtyard with flowers. I want to lay stars in her path, so that the journey from the sky to the earth becomes easy for her and and I want to spend the whole night looking at her.”

“She isn't very clever or very devout,… and she certainly empties the whole salt cellar into the stories she tells me. But I love her because she never lies.”