I love you as one should, to excess. With folly, delight and despair.

I love you as one should, to excess. With folly, delight and despair.

You soothe my soul. You fill it with so tender a sentiment that it is sweet to live during the time that I see you.

I read what I feel, and not what I see.

none but the unhappy are worthy of friends; if your soul had never suffered never could you have entered mine.

You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.

Oh, my dear, my tragedy is that you don't need to be loved as I know how to love.