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To love someone out of compassion means not really to love.
If a mother was Sacrifice personified, then a daughter was Guilt, with no possibility of redress.
The only explanation I can suggest is that for Franz, love was not an extension of public life but its antithesis. It meant a longing to put himself at the mercy of his partner. He who gives himself up like a prisoner of war must give up his weapons as well. And deprived in advance of defense against a possible blow, he cannot help wondering when the blow will fall. That is why I can say that for Franz, love meant the constant expectation of a blow.
“Why don’t you ever use your strength on me?” she said. “Because love means renouncing strength,” said Franz softly.
The goals we pursue are always veiled. A girl who longs for marriage longs for something she knows nothing about. The boy who hankers after fame has no idea what fame is. The thing that gives our every move its meaning is always totally unknown to us.
Which is another way of saying that she gave everyone the impression of being there for the taking. But when men responded by asking for what they felt they had been promised, they met with strong resistance, and their only explanation for it was that she was deceitful and malicious.
But, he said to himself, whether they knew or didn’t know is not the main issue; the main issue is whether a man is innocent because he didn’t know. Is a fool on the throne relieved of all responsibility merely because he is a fool?
“It is much more important to dig a half-buried crow out of the ground.” he said, “than to send petitions to a president.”
Yes, a husband’s funeral is a wife’s true wedding! The climax of her life’s work! The reward for her sufferings!
Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company.
That is why man cannot be happy: happiness is the longing for repetition.
