The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Jean GenetRead
My heart's in my hand, and my hand is pierced, and my hand's in the bag, and the bag is shut, and my heart is caught.
Interpretation
This quote expresses the pain and vulnerability that comes with love and emotional attachment.
Jean Genet's quote illustrates the complex relationship between love and suffering. The imagery of a heart being caught and a hand being pierced suggests that when one opens their heart to love, they also expose themselves to hurt. The repeated mention of 'my hand' and 'my heart' emphasizes the intertwined nature of emotional and physical experiences in the context of love, where the heart's desires are often at odds with the risks of emotional vulnerability.
In practice
In a romantic setting, one might use this quote to express the bittersweet nature of love.
The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.
I'm homosexual. How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
I wanted to swallow myself by opening my mouth very wide and turning it over my head so that it would take in my whole body, and then the Universe, until all that would remain of me would be a ball of eaten thing which little by little would be annihilated: that is how I see the end of the world.
I decided to be what crime made of me.
It's a true image, born of a false spectacle.
It's like my whole life never happened, When I see you, it's as if I never had a thought. I know this dream, it might be crazy, But it's the only one I've got.
Love and hope can conquer hate.
Desire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.
Here my tears are falling, Nastenka. Let them flow, let them flow - they don't hurt anybody. They will dry Nastenka.
If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.
Maybe true love isn't out there for me, but I can sublimate my loneliness with the notion that true love is out there for someone.
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