No less sad than seeing the person we love grow old and die is the discovery that our lover is betraying us or has stopped loving us. Subject to time, change and death, love can also fall victim to boredom. Living together day after day, if lovers lack imagination, can bring the most intense love to an end. We have little power against the misfortunes that time has in store for every man and woman. Life is a continual risk; to live is to expose oneself. The hermit’s abstinence turns into a solitary delirium, the lovers’ flight into a cruel death. Other passions can seduce us and enthral us: some of them lofty, such as the love of God, of knowledge, or of a cause; others base, such as the love of money or power. In none of these passions does the risk inherent in life disappear. The mystic may discover that he has been pursuing an illusion; knowledge does not protect the wise man from the disappointment that all learning yields; power does not save the politician from betrayal by a friend. Glory is a frequently miscalculated goal, and oblivion can get the better of any reputation. The misfortunes of love are simply the adversities of life.