Did not one spend the first half of one’s days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors? - Émile Zola

With eyes again dreamily gazing upward, Hélène remained plunged in reverie. She was the Lady Rowena; she loved with the serenity and intensity of a noble mind. That spring morning, that great, gentle city, those early wall-flowers shedding their perfume on her lap, had little by little filled her heart with tenderness.

She made a savage, angry effort at revolt, and, then all at once gave in. They exchanged not a word. The act was silent and brutal.

Il y avait des hommes si ambitieux qu'ils auraient torché les chefs, pour les entendre seulement dire merci.