Drosselmeier had unwittingly exposed himself to an overdose of reality, and it had destroyed his reason.

We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity.

How far does a pretence of feeling, maintained with absolute conviction, become authentic?

Out of the frying pan into the fire! What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? No different!

Just because we're sisters under the skin doesn't mean we've got much in common.

He was a lovely man in many ways. But he kept on insisting on forgiving me when there was nothing to forgive.

Drosselmeier had unwittingly exposed himself to an overdose of reality, and it had destroyed his reason.