Dream Story

Fridolin felt intoxicated, not only with her, her fragrant body and her red-glowing mouth—not only
with the atmosphere of this room and the voluptuous mysteries that surrounded him—he was
intoxicated, his thirst unsatisfied, with all the experiences of the night, none of which had come to a
satisfactory conclusion.

A sword between us, he thought, we are lying here like
mortal enemies.

Is one always to stake one's life just from a sense of duty or
self-sacrifice, and never because of a whim or a passion, or simply to match oneself against Fate?

"Well," replied Gibiser theatrically, "aren't insanity and depravity the same in the eyes of God?"

I know that it's dangerous. Perhaps that's the very thing that tempts me.

And
if it hadn't been you standing by the window, then very likely the summer evening wouldn't have been
so beautiful.

You may believe me, even though it sounds trite, that in every woman
I thought I loved it was always you I was looking for

Here I am, my beloved for whom I have waited —
take me