It is better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not.

You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.

The logic of the heart is absurd

You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.

I do not comprehend those rules of conduct that make us so content with self and so cold to those we love. I detest prudence, I even hate (suffer me to say so) those duties of friendship which substitute propriety for interest, and circumspection for feeling. How shall I say it? I love the abandonment to impulse, I act from impulse only, and I love to madness that others do the same by me.

If you can attain repose and calm, believe that you have seized happiness.