I do not ask impossibilities.

You will mourn for me a while--my poor soul will rest in peace if you feel one moment of real regret for me, for your old husband, before you take another.

Do not cry, Corona, dearest; it is the way of the world.

We waste our youth in scoffing at reality, and in the unrealness of our old age the present no longer avails us much.

You know me, perhaps you despise me.