"<p>He's strong and handsome - well, that's why I love him. But not. I admire it and I'm proud of it, but I could love it without it. If it was ugly, I would still like it. I would work and toil and pray for him and sit by his bedside until his last breath. Yes, in the end I conclude that I only love him because he is mine and because he is a man. I don't see any other reason for it. (...) This kind of love is not the fruit of mature consideration and knowledge. Of such love it is simply said: it is, it is, it is here, and no one knows where it came from. Inexplicable. And that's fine.</p>"