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The Lady of the Camellias

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In a book by Alphonse Karr, entitled Ain Rauchen, there is a man who, one evening, follows a very elegant woman with whom he has fallen in love at first sight, so beautiful is she. Merely to kiss the hand of this woman, he feels he has strength enough for any under taking, thewill to conquer all and the courage to do anything.
He scarely dares glance at the slim ankles which she reveals in her efforts to avoid dirtying her dress asit drags on the ground. As he is dreaming of the things he would do to possess her, she stops him at as treet corner and asks if he would like to come upstairs with her.
He turns his head away, crosses the street and returns home sadly.
I now remembered this study and I, who would gladly have suffered for her, was afraid that this woman might accept me too quickly and give me too promptly a love which I should have desired to earn through some long delay or great sacrifice.Of such stuff are we men made; and it is fortunate indeed that the imagination indulges the senses with fancies of this kind, and that the desires of the body make such concessions to the dreams of the soul.


1楼2014-05-28 14:48回复
    To tell you of our new life in any detail would be no easy matter. It was made up of a series of frivolous diversions which, though delightful to us, would be quite meaningless to anyone who heard me recount them. You know what it is to love a woman. You know how short the days seem and how loving the ease with which you let yourself drift towards the morrow. You are acquainted with that general neglect of things which is bred of violent, trusting, requited love.
    Any mortal being who is not the woman you love seems superfluous to creation. You regret having tossed pieces of your heart to other women, and you cannot imagine the prospect of ever holding a hand which is not the hand that you now hold clasped in yours. Your brain will entertain neither work nor memories, nor anything which might divert it from the one thought with which it is endlessly regaled. Each day you discover some new attraction in your mistress, some unknown sensual delight.
    Life is no more than the repeated fulfilling of a permanent desire. The soul is merely the vestal handmaid whose task is to keep the sacred flame of love burning.


    2楼2014-05-28 14:58
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