In losing her he lost not merely his main source of companionship but also his primary adviser, whose observations he had found so useful in helping shape his own thinking.

What is this Love that so many speak of with such apparent familiarity? Do  they truly comprehend how unattainable it is? Are there not as many  definitions of Love as there are stars in the universe?

It would be curious to discover who it is to whom one writes in a diary. Possibly to some mysterious personification of one&#39;s own identity.

Written By Beatrice Webb

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