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Syrope
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"The one I love is...just as I am. But if what I love in him is to be worn away like a stone step by the tread of the thing you call life, the thing you call happiness, if he reaches the point where he stops growing pale with fear when I grow pale, stops thinking that I must have been killed in an accident when I am five minutes late, stops feeling that he is alone on earth when I laugh and he doesn't know why – if he too has to learn to say "yes" to everything – why, no, then, no! I do not love him...I spit on your idea of life – that life must go on, come what may...You with your promise of a hum-drum happiness – provided a person doesn't ask too much of life. I want everything of life, I do; and I want it now! I want it total, complete: otherwise I reject it! I will not be moderate. I will not be satisfied with the bit of cake you offer me if I promise to be a good little girl. I want to be sure of everything..."
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030507
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