The memory of you saddened my joys, but consoled my sorrows.
Henri BarbusseI was not at ease that night. I was a prey to an immense distress. I sat as if I had fallen into my chair. As on the first day I looked at my reflection in the glass, and all I could do was just what I had done then, simply cry, "I!
Henri BarbusseYou will tell me the quiet story of your day's work, without any object except to give me your thoughts and your life. You will speak of your childhood memories. I shall not understand them very well because You will be able to give me, perforce, only insufficient details, but I shall love your sweet strange language.
Henri BarbusseI keep remembering — I keep remembering. My heart has no pity on me.
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