Time is a dream ... a destroying dream;_x000D_ _x000D_ It lays great cities in dust, it fills the seas;_x000D_ _x000D_ It covers the face of beauty, and tumbles walls.
Conrad AikenRead
Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.
Interpretation
The quote expresses how shared moments and experiences deepen their significance through love, and their absence leads to a profound sense of loss.
Conrad Aiken's quote reflects on the transformative power of love and companionship, emphasizing that shared experiences, such as listening to music or breaking bread together, are enriched by emotional connection. The absence of a loved one results in a desolate feeling, where the beauty of those moments fades away, highlighting the deep impact that love has on our perception of joy and attachment.
In practice
This quote could be shared during a memorial for a loved one to emphasize the value of shared moments.
Time is a dream ... a destroying dream;_x000D_ _x000D_ It lays great cities in dust, it fills the seas;_x000D_ _x000D_ It covers the face of beauty, and tumbles walls.
One cricket said to another -_x000D_ _x000D_ come, let us be ridiculous, and say love!_x000D_ _x000D_ love love love love love_x000D_ _x000D_ let us be absurd, woman, and say hate!_x000D_ _x000D_ hate hate hate hate hate_x000D_ _x000D_ and then let us be angelic_x000D_ _x000D_ and say nothing.
just like a murderer jumps of nowhere in an ally, love jumped out in front of us and struck us both at once
Now the wintertime is coming The windows are filled with frost I went to tell everybody But I could not get across Well, I wanna be your lover, baby I don't wanna be your boss Don't say I never warned you When your train gets lost.
Of all the errands life seems to be running, of all the mysteries that enchant us, love is my favorite
What I want from my lovers is real, unadulterated love, and from my genuine workers I expect real work done.
Since when has love ever looked for reasons, or evidence? Why would love bow to the reality of things, when it creates a reality of its own, so much more vivid, wherein everything resonates to the key of the heart?
For what the lover would, that would the beloved; what she would ask of him that should he go before to grant. Without accord such as this, love is but a bond and a constraint.
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