Art begins when a man, with a purpose of communicating to other people a feeling he once experienced, calls it up again within himself and expresses it by certain external signs.
Leo TolstoyRead
Human love serves to love those dear to us but to love one's enemies we need divine love.
Interpretation
Human love is natural but loving opponents requires a higher, divine kind of love.
In this quote, Leo Tolstoy suggests that while it is easy to love those who are close and dear to us, the ability to truly love our enemies transcends ordinary human affection and requires a more profound, divine love. This idea underscores the moral and spiritual challenge of extending love beyond our immediate circles, promoting a message of compassion and empathy even towards those who oppose us.
In practice
During a community service event, one might say this quote to encourage understanding and compassion for all, including opponents.
Art begins when a man, with a purpose of communicating to other people a feeling he once experienced, calls it up again within himself and expresses it by certain external signs.
Pierre looked into the sky, into the depths of the retreating, twinkling stars. "And all this is mine, and all this is in me, and all this is me!" thought Pierre. "And all this they've caught and put in a shed and boarded it up!
People try to do all sorts of clever and difficult things to improve life instead of doing the simplest, easiest thing-refusing to participate in activities that make life bad.
It's too easy to criticize a man when he's out of favour, and to make him shoulder the blame for everybody else's mistakes.
Music is the shorthand of emotion. Emotions, which let themselves be described in words with such difficulty, are directly conveyed to man in music, and in that is its power and significance.
A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor β such is my idea of happiness.
I'm awaiting a lover. I have to be rent and pulled apart and live according to the demons and the imagination in me. I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
Love will never be ideal until man recovers from the illusion that he can be just a little bit faithful or a little bit married.
Now itβs high watermark and floodtide in the heart and time to go. The sea-nymphs in the spray will be the chorus now. Whatβs left to say? Suspect too much sweet-talk but never close your mind. It was a fortunate wind that blew me here. I leave half-ready to believe that a crippled trust might walk and the half-true rhyme is love.
It may have been in pieces, but I gave you the best of me.
Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled.
Heaven will be no heaven to me if I do not meet my wife there.
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