husband:--
Wife: ~
--Why do you want to commit suicide?
~Disturbed mental balance, anger, hatred, shame, to myself, not wanting to live.
--How can you fall in love with a man who can give you nothing?
~ He occasionally gives me the same thing.
--what?
~ Himself.
--Has his love for you diminished?
~No, zero minus zero is still zero.
--This is really tragic.
~The word tragedy is really too serious, sad, but not tragic.
--What happened to you?
~Love, Bill, that's all. The comfort of love is like sunshine after rain, and the power of lust is like a storm after a sunny day. One cannot live in peace, especially after discovering something more primitive.
-- To put it bluntly, isn't it lust?
~Our love is deeper than lust. Lust is not all of life, but Frandy is all of my life, even death.
Love is such a thing as a thousand readers and a thousand Hamlets. The landlady said: "Many people are talking about true love, do you know what true love is, that is, when he wets the bed, he wipes his ass, changes the sheets, and maintains him. dignity."
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