Venus in Furs has caught his soul in the red snares of hair. He will paint her, and go mad.
You have corrupted my imagination and inflamed my blood.
Desire followed the glance, pleasure followed desire
Whoever allows himself to be whipped, deserves to be whipped.
Love knows no virtue, no merit; it loves and forgives and tolerates everything because it must. We are not guided by reason.
Alas, woman is faithful as long as she loves, but you demand that she be faithful without love and give herself without enjoyment. Who is cruel then, woman or man?