But that is the thing about miracles: it is perception that determines them as such, not facts.
Camilla GibbRead
That idea is strange to me. People keep on loving? People keep on loving even if you are not there in their face everyday to remind them? People keep on loving even if they no longer see you at all? People keep on loving even if they are loving someone else? Impossible: to believe you can be loved in absence when you don't even know how it feels to be loved when you are there.
Interpretation
The quote expresses skepticism about the nature of love enduring in absence.
In this quote, Camilla Gibb reflects on the complexity of love, particularly how it can persist even without physical presence or constant reminders. The speaker questions the possibility of being loved while being absent, highlighting the challenge of understanding love when one has not experienced it firsthand in a tangible way.
In practice
During a speech about the power of love across distances.
But that is the thing about miracles: it is perception that determines them as such, not facts.
Once you step inside, history has to be rewritten to include you. A fiction develops a story that weaves you into the social fabric, giving you roots and a local identity. You are assimilated, and in erasing your differences and making you one of their own, the community can maintain belief in its wholeness and purity. After two or three generations, nobody remembers the story is fiction. It has become fact. And this is how history is made.
Sam said to me the other day, "I love you like 20 tyrannosauruses on 20 mountaintops," and this is the exact same way in which I love him.
There is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham.
It was nice - in the dark and the quiet... and her eyes looking back, like there was something in me worth seeing.
Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient.
And you'll always love me won't you? Yes And the rain won't make any difference? No
He thinks about her, at this moment, in her house, a few thin walls away, packing her life into boxes and bags and he wonders what memories she is rediscovering, what thoughts are catching in her mouth like the dust blown from unused textbooks. He wonders if she has buried any traces of herself under her floorboards. He wonders what those traces would be if she had. And he wonders again why he thinks about her so much when he knows so little to think about.
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