I often wonder over it; every thought, and whatever else is fashioned
within us, seems to be complete in itself, as single and indivisible
as a person. One thing crowds out another, and that which just now was
near and present soon sinks back into obscurity. And then again come
moments of sudden and universal clarity, when several such spirits of
the inner world completely fuse together into a wonderful wedlock, and
many a forgotten bit of our ego shines forth in a new light and even
illuminates the darkness of the future with its bright lustre. As it
is in a small way, so is it also, I think, in a large way. That which
we call a life is for the complete, inner, immortal man only a single
idea, an indivisible feeling. And for him there come, too, moments of
the profoundest and fullest consciousness, when all lives fall
together and mingle and separate in a different way. The time is
coming when we two shall behold in one spirit that we are blossoms of
one plant, or petals of one flower. We shall then know with a smile
that what we now call merely hope was really memory.

Do you know how the first seed of this idea germinated in my soul
before you and took root in yours? Thus does the religion of love
weave our love ever and ever more closely and firmly together, just as
a child, like an echo, doubles the happiness of its gentle parents.

Nothing can part us; and certainly any separation would only draw me
more powerfully to you. I bethink me how at our last embrace, you
vehemently resisting, I burst into simultaneous tears and laughter. I
tried to calm myself, and in a sort of bewilderment I would not
believe that I was separated from you until the surrounding objects
convinced me of it against my will. But then my longing grew again
irresistible, until on its wings I sank back into your arms. Suppose
words or a human being to create a misunderstanding between us! The