Thou art become too sacred to appear a part of the common world, and I feel glad that thou art not by when crowds have a right to judge me.
....
"And he spoke to me of ANOTHER: to another he would consign me! No, it is not love that I feel for thee, Zanoni; or why did I hear thee without anger, why did thy command seem to me not a thing impossible?
As the strings of the instrument obey the hand of the master, thy look modulates the wildest chords of my heart to thy will.

If it please thee,--yes, let it be so.

Thou art lord of my destinies; they cannot rebel against thee! I almost think I could love him, whoever it be, on whom thou wouldst shed the rays that circumfuse thyself.

Whatever thou hast touched, I love; whatever thou speakest of, I love.

Thy hand played with these vine leaves; I wear them in my bosom.