Days [ ) Incomplete | Edmond de Goncourt, 1822-1896

“Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted,
we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book
in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be:
incompleteness in absence.”

Edmond de Goncourt, 1822-1896