The scapegoat has always had the mysterious power of unleashing man's ferocious pleasure in torturing, corrupting, and befouling.
Francois MauriacRead
The man who partakes in the breaking of the bread dares to build his house on the very core of love. He becomes, as it were, Godlike, but regardless of the strength he derives from it, his free will remains. We are always free to disown this immense grace, to abuse it. The Greatest Love may be betrayed. Fed on the Living Bread, we nevertheless conceal a part of ourselves which longs for swine's food.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the profound nature of love and the complexities of human free will.
Francois Mauriac's quote illustrates the deep spiritual connection one can experience through love, likening this bond to divine grace. However, it acknowledges the inherent struggle of human nature, emphasizing that despite the nourishing presence of love—symbolized as 'the Living Bread'—individuals possess the freedom to reject or misuse this gift, revealing the tension between our higher aspirations and base desires.
In practice
During a wedding speech, one might use this quote to highlight the essence of love's strength and challenges.
The scapegoat has always had the mysterious power of unleashing man's ferocious pleasure in torturing, corrupting, and befouling.
That is the mystery of grace: it never comes too late.
Human love is often but the encounter of two weaknesses.
No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever.
To love someone is to see a miracle invisible to others.
Where does discipline end? Where does cruelty begin? Somewhere between these, thousands of children inhabit a voiceless hell.
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
I think, a lot of times, people just want to be cool, and to be in love is not cool. But I think it's the coolest. I think love is the coolest thing that there is.
We have these earthly bodies. We don't know what they want. Half the time, we pretend they are under our mental thumb, but that is the illusion of the healthy and the protected. Of sedate lovers. For the body has emotions it conceives and carries through without concern for anyone or anything else. Love is one of those, I guess. Going back to something very old knit into the brain as we were growing. Hopeless. Scorching. Ordinary.
The trick is to love somebody.... If you love one person, you see everybody else differently.
Usually they are quick to discover that I cannot see or hear.... It is not training but love which impels them to break their silence about me with the thud of a tail rippling against my chair on gambols round the study, or news conveyed by expressive ear, nose, and paw. Often I yearn to give them speech, their motions are so eloquent with things they cannot say.
He, full of bashfulness and truth, loved much, hoped little, and desired naught.
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