I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.It was impossible for me to separate her, in the past or in the present, from the innermost life of my life. I, trembling in spirit and worshipping the very hem of her dress; she, quite composed and most decidedly not worshipping the hem of mine.The air of completeness and superiority with which she walked at my side, and the air of youthfulness and submission with which I walked at hers, made a contrast that I strongly felt.I verily believe that her not remembering and not minding in the least, made me cry again, inwardly – and that is the sharpest crying of all.
--charles dickens
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