We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Jonathan Safran FoerRead
The bruises go away, and so does how you hate, and so does the feeling that everything you receive from life is something you have earned.
Interpretation
Pain and resentment are temporary, and they fade over time.
In this quote, Jonathan Safran Foer reflects on the transient nature of emotional pain and negative emotions like hatred. He suggests that, much like physical bruises, these feelings will diminish, highlighting the idea that our perception of life and the value of what we receive may change as we move past hurt and resentment.
In practice
During a speech about personal growth after hardship.
We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled. Each second was two hundred yards, to be walked, crawled. You couldn't see the next hour, it was so far in the distance. Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.
She was not crying Which surprised me very much But I understand now That she had found places For her melancholy That were behind more masks Than only her eyes
What do babies dream of? She must be dreaming of the before-life, just as I dream of the afterlife.
A few weeks after the worst day, I started writing lots of letters. I don't know why, but it was one of the only things that made my boots lighter.
What is being awake if not interpreting our dreams, or dreaming if not interpreting our wake?
There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy.
For in grief nothing "stays put." One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it? How often -- will it be for always? -- how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, "I never realized my loss till this moment"? The same leg is cut off time after time.
Life is hard. After all, it kills you.
I'm killing time while I wait for life to shower me with meaning and happiness.
Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
He who loves not women, wine, and song Remains a fool his whole life long.
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