Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
Barbara KingsolverRead
At some point in my life I'd honestly hoped love would rescue me from the cold, drafty castle I lived in. But at another point, much earlier I think, I'd quietly begun to hope for nothing at all in the way of love, so as not to be disappointed. It works. It gets to be a habit.
Interpretation
The quote reflects a journey of hope and emotional survival regarding love.
In this quote, Barbara Kingsolver explores the conflicting emotions surrounding love, initially expressing a longing for love to bring warmth and rescue from loneliness. However, she later reveals a protective mechanism of lowering expectations to avoid disappointment, illustrating how habits of emotional defense can develop when faced with the realities of love and hope.
In practice
This quote is perfect for a discussion on the complexities of love at a relationship workshop.
Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
Children can be your heartache. But that doesn't matter, you have to go on and have them . . . it works out.
I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved.
I did it to win love, and to prove myself capable. Not to move mountains. In my opinions, mountains don't move. They only look changed when you look down on them from great height.
Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.
Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own.
God is love, the bishops tell. _x000D_ Yes, I know, But love is hell.
As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.
I did not believe him capable of love. That is an emotion in which tenderness is an essential part, but Strickland had no tenderness either for himself or for others; there is in love a sense of weakness, a desire to protect, an eagerness to do good and to give pleasure--if not unselfishness, at all events a selfishness which marvellously conceals itself; it has in it a certain diffidence.
I know a man who, when he saw a woman of striking beauty, praised the Creator for her. The sight of her lit within him the love of God.
There is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham.
I loved you when I saw you today and I loved you always but I never saw you before.
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