Henry Rider Haggard. Cleopatra (№ 32356)

What unfathomable thing - the love of a woman, so fragile, when only in its infancy, and as formidable when developed to its full potential! It starts off sounding like a trickle that came from the bowels of the mountain. And what brook becomes after that? A trickle becomes a mighty river, on which are floating caravans of rich vessels, which gives life to the earth and gives her joy and happiness. But suddenly the river rises and washes away everything that had been planted with such hope, draws in debris built palaces and destroys our happiness and temples of purity and faith... Love lifts negligible to immeasurable heights of power, overthrows the great in the dust. And while there is tainstvennaya creation of nature - a Woman, Good and Evil will exist inseparable. She stands and, blinded by love, weaves the thread of our destiny, it pours sweet wine in the bitter Cup of bile, it poisons the healthy breath of life poison their desires. Wherever you slip, it will be everywhere in front of you. Her weakness is your strength, its power is your death. It you're born, she is doomed. She is your slave, and all holds you captive; for her sake you forget about honor; it's worth it to touch the constipation, and it will tomcats, all obstacles fall in front of her. It is boundless as the ocean, she is as changeable as the sky, her name Neproduvaemosti. Man, don't try to run from the Woman and from her love, because wherever you're hiding, it is your life and everything you do, you do for her.