He saw all these forms and faces in a thousand relationships become newly born. Each one was mortal, a passionate, painful example of all that is transitory. Yet none of them died, they only changed, were always reborn, continually had a new face: only time stood between one face and another.

Lovers should not separate from each other after making love without admiring each other, without being conquered as well as conquering, so that no feeling of satiation or desolation arises nor the horrid feeling of misusing or having been misused.

Good that you ask. You should always ask, always have doubts.

When the suffering becomes acute enough, one goes forward.

Love is like death. It is fulfillment and an evening after which nothing more may follow.

I hope death will be a great happiness, a happiness as great as that of love, fulfilled love

Is not every life, every work fine?