A dogmatic belief in objective value is necessary to the very idea of a rule which is not tyranny or an obedience which is not slavery.
C. S. LewisRead
Love may, indeed, love the beloved when her beauty is lost: but not because it is lost. Love may forgive all infirmities and love still in spite of them: but Love cannot cease to will their removal. Love is more sensitive than hatred itself to every blemish in the beloved… Of all powers he forgives most, but he condones least: he is pleased with little, but demands all.
Interpretation
True love endures beyond physical appearances and imperfections, yet still desires improvement and perfection in the beloved.
C. S. Lewis highlights the profound nature of love, suggesting that while love can overlook flaws and imperfections, it inherently yearns for the beloved to grow and improve. Love is not blind to the shortcomings of the beloved; rather, it is acutely aware of them and wishes for their betterment, illustrating a balance between acceptance and an aspiration for perfection.
In practice
During a wedding speech when discussing the depth of true love.
A dogmatic belief in objective value is necessary to the very idea of a rule which is not tyranny or an obedience which is not slavery.
I enjoyed my breakfast this morning, and I think that was a good thing and do not think it was condemned by God. But I do not think myself a good man for enjoying it.
Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither.
Forgiving and being forgiven are two names for the same thing. The important thing is that a discord has been resolved.
I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. It doesn't change God - it changes me.
The instrument through which you see God is your whole self. And if a man's self is not kept clean and bright, his glimpse of God will be blurred
Being single is wonderful and I love it. I don't ever have a morning where I wake up and say, 'I really need to find a boyfriend today.'
They will say I smoked cigarettes and marijuana, cursed hoarse as a crow in all my languages, and loved morphine and Demerol and tequila and pulque, women and men. I will shrug my illusion of shoulders and answer that I am a water woman, not a vessel, not something you can sail or charter. I am instead the tributary, the river, the fluid source, and the sea itself. I am all her rainy implications. And what do you, with your rusted compass, know of love?
(Her last words) Oh! I love Him! My God, I love You!
It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people, whom I have loved so well.
Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.
Love's Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.
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