In her fevered eloquence she loses herself in detail, mixes up things that happened yesterday with others that happened long ago, imagined things with others that are true or half true, and if I manage to refute one charge, she comes at me with another one that I've refuted three times already. It's as if someone, in ignorance of the pattern on the front side of a rug, were picking at loose threads on the back, and with a sore finger".
From My First Wife, Jakob Wasser Mann
The actual person with whom you live is bound to be, in a curiuos way, invisible, in just the same way as yourself, are invisible; all you can do is sense their presence, feel them within you, and in turn expand in them. The word love, comapred to that has little meaning.
Jakob Wasser MannStichwörter: love marriage married-life
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