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.
The moment you fall in love feels like it has centuries behind it, generations - all of them rearranging themselves so this precise, remarkable intersection could happen. In your heart, in your bones, no matter how silly you know it is, you feel that everything has been leading to this, all the secret arrows were pointing here, the universe and time itself crafted this long ago, and you are just now realizing it, you are just now arriving at the place you were always meant to be.
In a world so torn apart by rivalry, anger, and hatred, we have the privileged vocation to be living signs of a love that can bridge all divisions and heal all wounds.
Were kisses all the joys in bed, _x000D_ One woman would another wed.
Who, of men, can tell_x000D_ _x000D_ That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell_x000D_ _x000D_ To melting pulp, that fish would have bright mail,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth its dower of river, wood, and vale,_x000D_ _x000D_ The meadows runnels, runnels pebble-stones,_x000D_ _x000D_ The seed its harvest, or the lute its tones,_x000D_ _x000D_ Tones ravishment, or ravishment its sweet,_x000D_ _x000D_ If human souls did never kiss and greet?
Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.
I cannot love anyone if I hate myself. That is the reason why we feel so extremely uncomfortable in the presence of people who are noted for their special virtuousness, for they radiate an atmosphere of the torture they inflict on themselves. That is not a virtue but a vice.
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