“You mustn’t be angry with me. One can’t help these things. I remember that I thought you wicked and cruel because you did this, that, and the other; but it was very silly of me. You didn’t love me, and it was absurd to blame you for that. I thought I could make you love me, but I know now that was impossible. I don’t know what it is that makes someone love you, but whatever it is, it’s the only thing that matters, and if it isn’t there you won’t create it by kindness, or generosity, or anything of that sort.”

“I should have thought if you’d loved me really you’d have loved me still.”

“I should have thought so too. I remember how I used to think that it would last for ever; I felt I would rather die than be without you, and I used to long for the time when you would be faded and wrinkled so that nobody cared for you any more and I should have you all to myself.”

Of Human Bondage, W. Somerset Maugham

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