Pierre, Or The Ambiguities - pg. 212

There is a dark, mad mystery in some human hearts, which,
sometimes, during the tyranny of a usurper mood, leads them to be all eagerness
to cast off the most intense beloved bond, as a hindrance to the attainment of
whatever transcendental object that usurper mood so tyrannically suggests. Then
the beloved bond seems to hold us to no essential good; lifted to exalted
mounts, we can dispense with all the vale; endearments we spurn; kisses are
blisters to us; and forsaking the palpitating forms of mortal love, we emptily
embrace the boundless and the unbodied air. We think we are not human; we become
as immortal bachelors and gods; but again; like the Greek gods themselves, prone
we descend to earth; glad to be uxorious once more; glad to hide these god-like
heads within the bosoms made of too-seducing clay.