... I lived his life. I had none of my own. He never noticed this surrender of my existence. He was so self-engrossed that any disturbance, however slight, was unendurable. Work, exaltation, self-denial and the never-ending quest where his whole life on and on and for ever.
I cancelled my will and being; like a tight-rope walker, I was concerned only with keeping my balance. He noticed nothing of all it cost me. He was utterly self-centred by nature, and yet he never thought of himself. His work was all in all. ...
... Someone observed to me once: "Alma, you have an abstraction for a husband, not a human being." It was quite true. But I treasured every single day of my life in those days. ...
... This summer (1908) was the saddest we had eer spent or were to spend together. Every excursion, every attempt at distraction was a failure. Grief and anxiety pursued us wherever we went. Work was his one resource. He slaved at the 'Lied von der Erde' and the first draft of the Ninth.
（吐槽：这翻译乱七八糟的 = =+）
... On one occasion Artur Bodanzky went up to his room with him, and I spent an hour or so with the rest. He came back with tears in his eyes and said to me in an undertone: "I shall never love any woman as I love Mahler." ...
... Next, I suddenly saw Debussy, Dukas and Pierne get up and go out in the middle of the second movement of Mahler's symphony. This left nothing to be said, but they did say afterwards that it was too Schubertian for them, and even Schubert they found too foreign, too Viennese--too Slav. ...
... I could never have imagined life without him, even though the feeling that my life was running to waste had often filled me with despair. Least of all could I have imagined life with another man. I had often thought of going away somewhere alone to start life afresh, but never with any thought of another person. Mahler was the hub of my existence and so he continued to be. ...
（下面这一段是关键！弗洛伊德出场……）
... In conclusion, he said: "I know your wife. She loved her father and she can only choose and love a man of his sort. Your age, of which you are so much afraid, is precisely what attracts her. You need not be anxious. You loved your mother, and you look for her in every woman. She was careworn and ailing, and unconsciously you wish your wife to be the same." ...
... One night I was awakened by an apparition by my bed. It was Mahler standing there in the darkness. "Would it give you any pleasure if I dedicated the Eighth to you?" Any pleasure! All the same I said: "Don't. You have never dedicated anything to anybody. You might regret it." "I have just written to Hertzka now--by the light of dawn," he said. ...
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