Now he was standing at the window trying to call that moment to account. What could it have been if not love declaring itself to him? But was it love? The feeling of wanting to die beside her was clearly exaggerated【夸大的言过其实的】; he had seen her only once before in his life. Was it simply the hysteria【歇斯底里】 of a man who, aware deep down of his in-aptitude【不适当】 for love, felt the self-deluding need to simulate it? His unconscious【无意识】 was so cowardly【胆小的】 that the best partner he could choose for his little comedy were this miserable provincial【省级的，乡下的】waitress with practically no chance at all to enter his life.
He remained annoyed with himself until he realized that not knowing what he really wanted was actually quite natural. We can never know what to want because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.
There is no means of testing which decision is better because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?
"Einmal ist keinmal", says Tomas to himself. What happened but once, says the German adage【格言】, might as well not have happened at all.
If we have only one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all.