So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.
Countee CullenRead
Your love to me was like an unread book.
Interpretation
The quote compares love to an unread book, suggesting it contains untapped potential and unexplored emotions.
Countee Cullen's quote frames love as an unread book, evoking the idea that the emotions and experiences within love can be rich and profound, yet remain unexplored and unexpressed. Just like an unread book holds stories and knowledge waiting to be discovered, love too has layers and depths that may go unnoticed until they are engaged with. This metaphor invites reflection on the complexities of emotional connections and the importance of fully experiencing love.
In practice
In a romantic setting, to emphasize the unknown aspects of a new relationship.
So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.
The truth is... everything counts. Everything. Everything we do and everything we say. Everything helps or hurts; everything adds to or takes away from someone else.
There is no secret to success except hard work and getting something indefinable which we call 'the breaks.' In order for a writer to succeed, I suggest three things - read and write - and wait.
All day long and all night through, One thing only must I do: Quench my pride and cool my blood, Lest I perish in the flood.
We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection
Paradise was made for tender hearts; hell, for loveless hearts.
It seemed to me pretty plain, that they had more of love than matrimony in them.
I think whenever you love something or somebody it means that you have to extend yourself, you have to grow - get a little larger. You can't stay in your little comfortable - spot.
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.
I tried to keep myself away from him by using con words like "fidelity" and "adultery", by telling myself that he would interfere with my work, that I had him I'd be too happy to write. I tried to tell myself I was hurting Bennett, hurting myself, making a spectacle of myself. I was. But nothing helped. I was possessed. The minute he walked into a room and smiled at me, I was a goner.
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