Friday, 4 February 1881

Here is something I believe I have often written here, and which I now find in Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
"For the woman who loves, there are no other men; her lover is more, all others are less: she and he are the only ones of their kind." Is that not so? When I told you that Cassagnac was my only equal.
I spend the whole day [words blackened: plunged in reveries of which] this man is the object. I am incapable of working — restless, troubled. It is ridiculous after all this time... But I contradict myself... Well, I should very much like to know whether it is an honourable feeling, or simply the overflow of my youth in need of an object of adoration. You see, all this talk — it is repetition and pale scribbling.

Notes

From Rousseau's Julie, ou la Nouvelle Héloïse (1761), Part I, Letter 14. The passage articulates the exclusive nature of romantic passion — a theme Marie returns to throughout her obsession with Cassagnac.