I'm definitely in Sarah's camp when it comes to this subject. Clearly, Maurice Bendrix and I should never date:
“Sarah and I used to have long arguments on jealousy. I was jealous even of the past, of which she spoke to me frankly as it came up – the affairs that meant nothing at all (except possibly the unconscious desire to find that final spasm Henry had so woefully failed to evoke). She was as loyal to her lovers as she was to Henry, but what should have provided me with some comfort (for undoubtedly she would be loyal to me too) angered me. There was a time when she would laugh at my anger, simply refusing to believe that it was genuine, just as she refused to believe in her own beauty, and I would be just as angry because she refused to be jealous of my past or my possible future. I refused to believe that love could take any other form than mine: I measured love by the extent of my jealousy, and by that standard of course she could not love me at all.”
–from The End of the Affair, by Graham Greene.How have I never read Graham Greene before? He's so good, I can't stand it. The angst! The agony of it all! And the dialogue!
- Sarah : Are you on a new book?
- Maurice Bendrix : Of course.
- Sarah : It's not about us, is it? The one you threatened to write?
- Maurice Bendrix : A book takes a year to write. It's too hard work for revenge.
- Sarah : If only you knew how little you had to revenge.
- Maurice Bendrix : I'm joking. We are adults. We knew it had to end some time. Now we can have lunch and talk about your husband.