“Why did she love him so? Women had always taken him to be other than he was, and they had loved in him, not himself, but a man their imagination had created, whom they had greedily sought all their lives; and then, when they had noticed their mistake, they had still loved him. And not one of them had been happy with him. Time passed, he met women, became intimate, parted, but not once did he love; there was anything else, but not love.”
― Anton Chekhov, "The Lady with the Dog"
I came across this quote and thought I would share it on here it resonated very much with me and may do with a few of you as well.