my love had grown one with my soul; it became darker, but did not go out

Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there.

For what did the creator prepare me,Why did he so terribly contradictThe hopes of my youth?

You men do not understand the delights of a glance, of a pressure of the hand... but as for me, I swear to you that, when I listen to your voice, I feel such a deep, strange bliss that the most passionate kisses could not take its place.

In people's eyes I readPages of malice and sin.

In simple hearts the feeling for the beauty and grandeur of nature is a hundred-fold stronger and more vivid than in us, ecstatic composers of narratives in words and on paper.

Passions are merely ideas in their initial stage.