'...When one is young, he may be in love from afar, through letters, thoughts, or pure exaltation, perhaps because he feels life before him, perhaps also because passion calls more vehemently than the heart; at my age, on the contrary, love has become the habit of an invalid; it is a binding up of the soul, which, almost done for, takes less frequent flights into the ideal. The heart rises no more in ecstasies, but speaks in selfish exigencies...'
from Fort Comme La Mort by Guy de Maupassant (Chapter VI)
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