“Then you my goddess with your immortal lips smilingWould ask what now afflicts me, why againI am calling and what now I with my restive heartDesired: Whom now shall I beguile To bring you to her love? Who now injures you, Sappho? For if she flees, soon shall she chase And, rejecting gifts, soon shall she give. If she does not love you, she shall do so soon Whatsoever is her will.Come to me now to end this consuming painBringing what my heart desires to be brought:Be yourself my ally in this fight.”

“I love you so, you are so much yourself!He is so afraid of his soul:no "I" now but she. She is now within me.And no "she" now but only my fragile "I"At the end of this song, how much I fear that my dreammay not see its dream in her.”

“I shall now call myself;I shall now call.In the forest of my heart, seeing myself,I shall love myself and love myself.I shall be my own quest,My absolute wealth.The journey of light supreme will commenceIn the heart of freedom.”

“But soon, I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct.”

“My love", she whispered, so low she sounded to Jacques as if she were speaking from the bottom of an abyss, "now we shall belong to each other in a strange country that you do not know. It is the country of madmen but not the country of brutes. I am taking away your vulgar senses and giving you others more refined.”

“Do you suppose a woman knows why she loves? Does she select? Does she say to herself, 'Go to! here is a distinguished statesman with presidential possibilities; I shall proceed to fall in love with him.' or, 'I shall set my heart upon this musician, whose fame is on every tongue?' or 'this financier, who controls the world's money markets?”