They cause us--they make us--oh, I cannot express exactly what I mean.

They make us more eager perhaps.

A too constant man is like an overstrong sweet: he cloys us.

The faults I speak of hurt us; but we thrive on them.

Women enjoy pain now and then.
Malcolm was telling me the other day that the wise people of the East have a saying: 'Without shadow there can be no light; without death there can be no life; without suffering there can be no joy.' Surely is that saying true of women.