From that day my 'passion' began. What I experienced then, I remember, was something similar to what a man must feel when first given an official post. I had ceased to be simply a young boy; I was someone in love. I say that my passion began from that day; and I might add that my suffering began from that day too. (…) I could not concentrate. I could not do the simplest thing. For whole days I did nothing but think intensely about her. I pined away, but her presence brought me no relief. I was jealous and felt conscious of my worthlessness. I was stupidly sulky, and stupidly abject; yet an irresistible force drew me towrds her, and it was always with an involuntary shiver of happiness that I went through the door of her room".
Ivan Turgeniev, Primeiro Amor