Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.
Interpretation
This quote expresses the pain of a heartbroken individual who is grappling with the changes in life and self caused by unattainable dreams.
In this poignant line by Christina Rossetti, the speaker addresses their heart, urging it to remain still despite the overwhelming feelings of heartbreak. The quote reflects a deep sense of loss and transformation, suggesting that the anguish of unfulfilled dreams has fundamentally altered their perception of life, self, and the world around them. It emphasizes the interplay between love, longing, and the inevitable changes that come with emotional turmoil.
In practice
During a speech at a gathering about the complexities of love.
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.
We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,_x000D_ _x000D_ To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee_x000D_ _x000D_ I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago
I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?
When I am dead, my dearest,_x000D_ _x000D_ Sing no sad songs for me
Love, to her, was something hat comes suddenly, like a blinding flash of lightening - a heaven-sent storm hurled into life, uprooting it, sweeping every will before it like a leaf, engulfing all feelings.
The world is filled with love-play, from animal lust to sublime compassion.
It's hard to love a woman and do anything.
The fact is that love is of two kinds, one which commands, and one which obeys. The two are quite distinct, and the passion to which the one gives rise is not the passion of the other.
To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.
Love is a religion, and its rituals cost more than those of other religions. It goes by quickly and, like a street urchin, it likes to mark its passage by a trail of devastation.
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