Love in the Time of Cholera
The she took the final step: she searched for him where he was not, she searched again without hope, and she found him unarmed.
"It's dead," he said […] "Too much love is as bad for this as no love at all."
But he said it without conviction: he was ashamed, furious with himself, longing for some reason to blame her for his failure. (6.202)
It was the first time she had made love in over twenty years, and she had been held back by her curiosity concerning how it would feel at her age after so long a respite. But he had not given her time to find out if her body loved him too. It had been hurried and sad, and she thought: Now we've screwed up everything. (6.206)
When at last she recovered her self-possession in the perfumed oasis of her cabin, they made the tranquil, wholesome love of experienced grandparents, which she would keep as her best memory of that lunatic voyage. It was as if they had leapt over the arduous cavalry of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. (6.221)