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368 pages, Hardcover
First published April 14, 2015
“Ah, George. A woman who denies love. It is you whom you write about. It is you, a powerful woman powerless to get what you need most. You seem to have no idea how to achieve it. And yet you have one of your own characters say of Lelia that she is not a complete human being. You have him say that where love is absent, there can be no woman. This is you speaking of yourself. A painful and fatal flaw in herself, as she could not explain her passion, how it sputtered and stalled."
“When I was thirty years old and felt old as time. I had failed in every love relationship I had attempted: with my mother, with God, with marriage, with Aurelien, with lovers, with my children. And with Marie, whose light still shone brightest for me, who still seemed the one with whom I might have been enduringly happy. These days, I enjoyed her company in friendship and no longer aspired to anything beyond it; I would have embarrassed myself in attempting it, and I had no doubt that any attempt at rekindling romantic love would have turned her away from me entirely. She had finished with that the day she’d left Nohant, and I knew perhaps better than anyone that it was always easy for Marie to leave behind what no longer engaged or amused her”.
“Marie was gone. Musset was gone. I wanted Pagello gone. One is not living when one does not use the parts of oneself that are most vital, most especially the need to love and loved. In that respect, I was already dead.”