human
Do you know that you have no right to cry out against life? Do you know that there are men and women who would lay down their lives--yes, and give up their immortal souls--for hours which you have had? Do you know that you have no right to say Karl Hubers was mocked by fate, made sport of, buffetted about? Do you know, --his face went white as he said this, slowly--
gpt
Ernestine, we all dream of love; we all desire it. It is only at rare, rare times it comes as it came to you. And I say to you--and I mean it from the bottom of my heart--that if you had been forced to give up your love in the first hour of its fulfillment, for all that you should thank God through the remainder of your life that it had been yours. For you _had_ it!--and nothing, loss, death, defeat, disappointment of every kind, can strip from your soul the consciousness that once, no matter for how short a time, love in its fullness and perfection was yours. Long, lonely years may come, and all hard things may come, but through it all the thing to keep your soul in tune is the memory of some one perfect hour.
human
You dreamed your dream, --and in his voice now the beautiful things of appreciation and understanding.
gpt
I know your dream. You dreamed of growing old together; of taking from life everything there was together; of achieving to the uttermost; of rejoicing in each other's victories, growing more and more close together. I know your dream--a beautiful dream. Giving up some things as the changing years do their work, and taking on the other things, the more quiet, in fact finer things, that come with the years. Oh, yes--don't think I do not know that dream. To walk together down the years, meet them fearlessly, gladly, in the thought that they but add to the fullness of your love--I know--I know. And now that it is not to be as you thought, you say life has left nothing to you; that you hate it; will have none of it. Oh, Ernestine, if you could only know how rich you are!
human
Suppose you didn't have the luxury of giving yourself up to your own heart? Suppose that every day and night of your life, you had to fight memory, knowing it held nothing for you but jeers and mockery and things too damnable for words! Suppose you had to fairly forbid yourself to think of the beautiful things of life! Suppose that what had been the most beautiful moments of your life were made, by memory, the most hideous! Suppose the memory of his kiss always brought with it the consciousness of his falseness; that his words of love never came back to you without the knowledge that he had been laughing at you in his heart all the time! Suppose you could never get away from the damning truth that what you gave from the depth of your heart was tossed aside with a laugh! Suppose you had given the great passion of your life, the best that was in you, to a liar and a hypocrite! Suppose you had been made a fool of!--easy game! _Then_ what of life?--your belief in love?--thoughts of fate? Great God, woman, can't you see what you have got?
gpt
To have had one hour--just one perfect hour, and then the memory of that untarnished forever--it would be enough.
human
But you _had_ it, he would reply.
gpt
The cruel thing would be to awaken and find no such country had ever existed.