There exists no certainty that God gave man dominion over other creatures. It's, otherwise, more probable that man invented God to sanctify the dominion he took over cows or horses.
It's a disinterested love: Tereza wants nothing from Karenin. She doesn't even want love. She never put to herself those questions that torture human couples: does he love me? Has he ever loved anyone else more than me? Does he love me more than I love him? Maybe all these questions aimed at love, that measure it, that investigate it, that examine it, that interrogate it, can even destroy it at birth. Maybe we're not capable of loving because we want to be loved, meaning that we want something (love) from the other intead of getting closer to him unpretensiously and wanting only their presence.
If a love is to be unforgettable, fortuities must immediately start fluttering down to it like birds to Francis of Assisi's shoulders.
Love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.