Love, if you can; no doubt this will be granted you, so that at the summit of your poor happiness you may again remember that nothing counts, in love, except the first love, and endure at every moment the punishment of remembering, and the horror of comparing. Even when you say "Ah, this is better!" you will feel the pang of knowing that nothing which is not unique is good. But Love is not so merciful. "You, who have found me once," he says,"you shall lose me for ever!" Did you think, when you lost him, that you had reached the limit of suffering? It is not over yet. In striving now to be again what once you were, you will realise the height