You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!
Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me.
It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.