Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.
W. H. AudenRead
Desire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.
Interpretation
Desire may feel intense, but it does not equate to true love and cannot hinder the longing for genuine affection.
In this quote by W. H. Auden, the author reflects on the nature of desire, distinguishing it from authentic love. He acknowledges that while desire can be overwhelming and tumultuous, it lacks the depth and sincerity of true emotional connection, leaving him yearning for the real thing despite the chaos that desire brings.
In practice
In a speech on relationships, one might say, 'As W. H. Auden pointed out, desire alone does not define love.'
Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.
That the speech of self-disclosure should be translatable seems to me very odd, but I am convinced that it is. The conclusion that I draw is that the only quality which all human being without exception possess is uniqueness: any characteristic, on the other hand, which one individual can be recognized as having in common with another, like red hair or the English language, implies the existence of other individual qualities which this classification excludes.
Nobody knows what the cause is, though some pretend they do; it like some hidden assassin waiting to strike at you. Childless women get it, and men when they retire; it as if there had to be some outlet for their foiled creative fire.
History is, strictly speaking, the study of questions; the study of answers belongs to anthropology and sociology.
Music is the best means we have of digesting time.
'Healing,' Papa would tell me, 'is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature.'
You were the vampire in my dream. My perfect one.
Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you.
We lie in each other's arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.
There is only one thing that has power completely, and that is love.
I kept glancing at him and away from him, as if his green eyes were hurting me. In modern parlance he was a laser beam. Deadly and delicate he seemed. His victims had always loved him. And I had always loved him, hadn't I, no matter what happened, and how strong could love grow if you had eternity to nourish it, and it took only these few moments in time to renew its momentum, its heat? -Lestat
And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
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