It is only marriage that keeps to the middle of the king’s highway. If one loves and takes a walk from Nøddebo, one doesn’t go along Esrom Lake even though really it’s just a hunting track; but it is a beaten track and love prefers to beat its own. One penetrates deeper into Grib’s Forest. And when one wanders thus, arm in arm, one understands each other; what before vaguely delighted and pained becomes clear.