under our love making I felt a bleakness that couldnt be dispelled. The sadness was in both of us, and I think we pitied ourselves that night, as if we were other people looking down on the couple who lay together on the bed
Interpretation
This quote reflects the complex emotions that can coexist in romantic relationships, including sadness and self-pity.
Siri Hustvedt's quote delves into the intricate layer of human emotions present in intimate moments, highlighting that feelings of bleakness and sadness can overshadow love. It suggests that even in close physical proximity, partners may struggle with invisible burdens, perceiving themselves as distant observers rather than fully engaged participants in their own relationship.
In practice
This quote could inspire a heartfelt message in a letter to a loved one.
Perception plays a vital role in the diagnosis of bipolar illness. Symptoms are perceived through the categories of psychiatric medicine at a given moment in history, categories which are continually shifting and being named or renamed.
Our memory fragments don't have any coherence until they're imagined in words. Time is a property of language, of syntax, and tense.
All human states are organic brain states - happiness, sadness, fear, lust, dreaming, doing math problems and writing novels - and our brains are not static.
I don't want the words to be naked the way they are in faxes or in the computer. I want them to be covered by an envelope that you have to rip open in order to get at. I want there to be a waiting time -a pause between the writing and the reading. I want us to be careful about what we say to each other. I want the miles between us to be real and long. This will be our law -that we write our dailiness and our suffering very, very carefully.
People who grow up with two or more languages understand that each can express certain aspects of reality better than the other.
The recollections of an older man are different from those of a younger man. What seemed vital at forty may lose its significance at seventy. We manufacture stories, after all, from the fleeting sensory material that bombards us at every instant, a fragmented series of pictures, conversations, odors, and the touch of things and people. We delete most of it to live with some semblance of order, and the reshuffling of memory goes on until we die.
We're the bridge across forever, arching above the sea, adventuring for our pleasure, living mysteries for the fun of it, choosing disasters triumphs challenges impossible odds, testing ourselves over and again, learning love and love and love!
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.
She always had to have someone to love...She couldn't seem to believe that anyone could really love her. She always thought it was because she was a star, not just because of her herself, and she always had to be reassured.
Sir, when two people have the extraordinary quality of this state, words are not necessary. Where that quality of love exists, words become unnecessary. There is instant communication.
The heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good.
Venus, when her son was lost,_x000D_ _x000D_ Cried him up and down the coast,_x000D_ _x000D_ In hamlets, palaces, and parks,_x000D_ _x000D_ And told the truant by his marks,-_x000D_ _x000D_ Golden curls, and quiver, and bow.
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