And in these words - ‘If I could suffer more, I would suffer more,’ - I saw in truth that as often as he could die, he would die, and that love would never let him rest until he had done it. And I watched with great diligence in order to learn how often he would die if he could. And truly the number passed both my understanding and my wits, so that I quite gave up counting. And when he had died all these times, or would have, yet in his love, it was all considered as nothing; for it all seemed to him so small compared to his love.
