[He] did not understand it, and I did not tell him then, but you know, don't you? She began to love him then. And part of why she loved him was because he looked like you. Does it make you laugh?

That was what she knew of love. No wonder [he] never recognized her love when she gave it to him. Even now, if he knew that she had loved him, it would break h…

Not that she meant to free you. Never that. But it still ought to flatter you. You're the sort of enemy your enemy must love

Poor beauty. May I not pity her, of all people? She loved him, but she had only learned one way to show her love - through cruelty and abuse

All a writer has to do to get a woman is to say he's a writer. It's an aphrodisiac.

My strongest memories are yours

Transforma-se o amador na cousa amada, Por virtude do muito imaginar; Nao tenho, logo, mais que desejar, Pois em mim tenho a parte desejada.