Quotes from Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

You are the sort of man who could quite ruin a woman

I'm telling you: never feel secure with a woman whom you love as the nature of a woman hides more dangers than you think

Each one of us is in the end a Samson, and will finally be wounded by the woman he loves, whether she wears peasant dress or a fur pelt

I began to grasp the meaning of creation. I saw that death and life were not so much enemies as friendly comrades, not opposites that negate each other, but rather as variations of nature, each flowing out of the other. I felt myself detached from the world. Death no longer seemed terrible to me; indeed, it appeared less so than life. And the more I became submerged in myself, the more everything about me became alive and expressive and touched my soul.

There is a type of woman who, ever since my boyhood, has invariably attracted me.    She is the woman with the eyes of a sphinx, whom desire makes cruel and cruelty makes desirous.

Déjese usted llevar por los impulsos de su naturaleza, pero nunca a medias. Si no puede usted ser una mujer buena y honrada, sea usted un demonio.

For the time being there is only one alternative: to be the hammer or the anvil.

My boredom also turned into melancholy, the melancholy that is so peculiar to us Little Russians, a manly yielding to the feeling of necessity. And my boredom was as necessary as sleep and death.

Te roba algo de tu alegría que yo haya pertenecido antes a otro y que otro me posea después de ti? ¿Será menor tu placer porque otro haya sido feliz como tú?

La mujer que no hace del hombre su súbdito, su esclavo, ¿qué digo?, su juguete, y que no le traiciona riendo, es una loca.

Whenever the women would talk about their daughters or other girls, about their future or their material prospects, the only thing they'd think of was marriage, the same way people talk about a man's job or office.

She is aristocratic when she rides, jumping boldly over ditches and hedges, but who admires her? Certainly not her husband. He'd just despise her if she were cowardly. On the contrary: he reminds her to think of her children.    So she feels like an actor who is expected to act without an audience and ends up gnashing her teeth in rage and crying into her pillow during her sleepless nights.

And you are the first woman I've ever loved,' he continued calmly. 'I love you so much that it makes me suffer, but I'm not suffering because I can't possess you. I'm suffering because it's impossible for me to love you. It tears my heart apart that such a magnificent nature has resulted in such an ugly character.'   

I cannot deny,' I said, 'that nothing will attract a man more than the picture of a beautiful, passionate, cruel, and despotic woman who wantonly changes her favorites without scruple in accordance with her whim—'...

Love knows no virtue, no profit; it loves and forgives and suffers everything, because it must.

The pupils of her eyes widened, her nostrils trembled, and when she pressed up against him tenderly and began kissing him, she bared her teeth, a graceful predator in all her unfettered cruelty.

It is merely the egoism of men, who wants to bury a woman like a treasure. All attempts at using vows, contracts, and holy ceremonies have failed to bring permanence into the most changeable aspect of changeable human existence, namely love. Can you deny that our Christina world is rotting?

The hand of an artist should rescue you Ã¢â'¬â€œ you should not be submerged like all the rest of us and forever, without leaving a trace of your existence behind

I love no-one. I did love you, so deeply and passionately Ã¢â'¬â€œ as deep as I could love anyone, but now I do not even love you. My heart is empty and dead, and that saddens

If only I could give you my total soul in one kiss

However, it is well to remember that nature is neither good nor bad, neither altruistic nor egoistic, and that it operates through the human psyche as well as through crystals and plants and animals with the same inexorable laws.

Before you, that another will possess me after you and would you enjoy it the less if another was happy at the same time as you?

Does it diminish your joy that I have belonged to another

Am I mad or is she? Does all this arise out of an inventive, wanton woman's brain with the intention of surpassing my supersensual fantasies, or is this woman really one of those Neronian characters who take a diabolical pleasure in treading underfoot, like a worm, human beings, who have thoughts and feelings and a will like theirs?