— You told me you had destroyed it.
— I was wrong. It has destroyed me.
One's days were too brief to take the burden of another's errors on one's shoulders.
I wish you had a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you.
I am tired of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else.
You come down here to console me. That is charming of you. You find me consoled, and you are furious. How like a sympathetic person!
I know what conscience is, to begin with. It is not what you told me it was. It is the divinest thing in us. Don't sneer at it, Harry, any more—at least not before me. I want to be good. I can't bear the idea of my soul being hideous.
"Being adored is a nuisance. Women treat us just as humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them."
"I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us," murmured the lad gravely. "They create love in our natures. They have a right to demand it back."