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 were as if a man knew only one colour and said: This colour, this blue or this red or this yellow, is the most glorious of all colours. We could hardly indeed say that he talked like a blind man, though he would really be little better. Thus, had I a mistress who was satisfied when I said, You are the first and only one, you are the first in the world—I would put her from me with disdain. But if she were sure of herself, if she valued my adoration, she would say: Take ten, take twenty other mistresses, choose amongst those whom men most desire, and if you, after having possessed them, still call me the best in the world, I will be proud and happy.

When I say to Marie, You are lovelier than all others, her heart can beat in proud joy. I was not true to her before I knew I spoke the truth.

DID not know I spoke the truth, before I thought her lost.

It is the trial I would wish every man for his love. A bitter trial it is, but it is an ordeal of cleansing fire as well.

Sorrow purifies, and sorrow fertilises. The love sown in carelessness through sorrow grows strong and pure.

Blessed be the sorrow which hallowed my love for Marie.

HE came to me an ignorant child. I can see her still, as she was at that time. So superior, so sure of herself as only the innocent are. You