That I had just committed myself afresh, and now permanently, to another being, one who suffered terribly, one of life’s outcasts, suddenly seemed no longer a sacrifice on my part. No, it is not the healthy, the secure, the proud, happy people on this earth whom we should love – they have no need of it! Love is, for them, no more than a homage, an entitlement, a duty owed to them, and they take it presumptuously and indifferently. To them, the devotion of another person is nothing more than an adornment, something to wear in the hair, a bracelet for the arm – not the entirety of life’s meaning
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