Translations:CP 03024/9/en
Since, merely by thinking about her, I brought her back to life, her infidelities could never be those of a dead person; the moment when she had committed them became the present moment, not only for her but for that one of my evoked “selves” who was thinking about her. So that no anachronism could ever separate the indissoluble couple, where with each new culprit a still contemporaneous and jealous lover was immediately paired[1]. After all it is no more absurd to regret that a dead woman does not know that she has not succeeded in deceiving us, than it is to hope that our name will be known in two hundred years’ time. What we feel is the only thing that exists for us, and we project it into the past, or into the future, without allowing ourselves to be stopped by the fictitious barriers of death[2].