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The Sorrows of Werter

By Johann Wolfgang Goethe


July 27.

I HAVE very often resolved not to see her so often. It is more easy to talk than to act. Every day I yield to the temptation; and when I return at night, I say I won't go on the morrow; but on the morrow I find myself with her again, and don't know how it has happened. Don't imagine, however, that good reasons are always wanting. One evening she said, "You'll come again tomorrow:" I could not then avoid going. Another day, the weather is so fine I must walk. -- I walk to Walheim; when I am there it is but half a league farther. My grandmother used to tell us a story of a {68} mountain of load stone: When any vessels came near it, the nails flew to the mountain, and the unhappy crew perished amidst the disjointed planks.