The Sorrows of Young Werther
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (translated by R.D. Boylan)
October 27.
I could tear open my bosom with vexation to think how little we are capable of influencing the feelings of each other. No one can communicate to me those sensations of love, joy, rapture, and delight which I do not naturally possess; and, though my heart may glow with the most lively affection, I cannot make the happiness of one in whom the same warmth is not inherent.
October 27: Evening.
I possess so much, but my love for her absorbs it all. I possess so much, but without her I have nothing.