We aren't the things we collect, acquire, read. We are, for as long as we are here, only love. The things we loved. The people we loved. And these, I think these really do live on.
Gabrielle ZevinRead
As many have discovered, it is entirely possible (although not particularly desirable) to love two people with all your heart. It is entirely possible to long for two lives, to feel that one life can't come close to containing it all.
Interpretation
It is possible to love two people deeply, but it can be complicated and unsatisfactory.
Gabrielle Zevin's quote speaks to the complexity of human emotions, particularly in the realm of love. It suggests that while one may have the capacity to love multiple people passionately, this situation often leads to conflict, confusion, and a feeling that no single relationship can truly fulfill all desires and aspirations. This highlights the challenges and limitations of love and the human experience as a whole.
In practice
In a discussion about the complexities of modern relationships.
We aren't the things we collect, acquire, read. We are, for as long as we are here, only love. The things we loved. The people we loved. And these, I think these really do live on.
On, there are so many lives. How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one. We could select the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls. But that's not how it works. A human life is a beautiful mess.
It’s difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything’s changed.
I wish I could tell you to always follow your heart, but I think it is bad advice. You have a heart, yes, it is true, but also a brain and also a soul. I've come to believe that we love with our brains as much as our hearts. Real Love is not just instinct, but intent...... From year to year, you may not always be the same Jane. This is perfectly normal. A Jane is many Janes in a lifetime.
There is no difference in quality between a life lived forward and a life lived backwards, she thinks. She had come to love this backward life. It was, after all, the only life she had.
How is it that we do not die of love in seeing that God Himself could do no more than shed His divine blood for us drop by drop? When as man He was preparing for death, He made Himself our food in order to give us life. God becomes food, bread for his creatures. Is this not enough to make us die of love?
These are the days of bootleg love.
Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!
it was not enough to be the last guy she kissed. i wanted to be the last one she loved.
What I say is that the supreme and singular joy of making love resides in the certainty of doing evil.
Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight
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