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Quote by Honoré de Balzac
English (Source)
Love goes through an infinite number of transformations before it blends into our lives forever and indelibly paints it with its fiery color. Artistic analysis can never grasp the secret of this imperceptible confluence. True passion finds expression in screams, or, for a cold person, in bored sighs... Love emerges from a fresh spring, a bed of flowers, pebbles and hyacinths, like a stream, like a river, changes its color and nature from wave to wave, and finally immerses itself in the into an immeasurable ocean, in which feeble spirits see only monotony, but great souls immerse themselves in eternal contemplation. How could we dare to describe these temporary nuances of emotions, these infinitely precious nothingness, these words, the emphasis of which is poor in human language, these glances, which are more meaningful than even the richest poems! In each mysterious scene, when we imperceptibly catch fire for a woman, a chasm opens, in which all poetic works are submerged. Well, how could we return the living and mysterious vibrations of the soul with our marginal notes, when we don't even have the right words to paint the visible mysteries of beauty?