Why should you care for a woman like me? I'm always nervous or sick, or sad or too gay.

I'm a completely worthless woman and no man should risk his life for me.

I'm not always sincere. One can't be in this world, you know.

I live like a monk: with one toothbrush, one cake of soap, and a pot of cream.

I like the sea: we understand one another. It is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; and so am I.

I was always sad as a child, for as long as I can think back. I hated crowds of people, and used to sit in a corner by myself, just thinking.

Love is a romantic designation for a most ordinary biological process-or, shall we say, chemical-process ... a lot of nonsense is talked and written about it.