We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Jonathan Safran FoerRead
It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss.
Interpretation
The pain of love often stems from longing for what is lost or unattainable.
This quote expresses the idea that the intensity of love is often tied to loss. When we love something deeply, its absence can amplify our emotions, leading to a profound sense of tragedy and longing that comes from missing that love, making it impossible to love anything as profoundly as what has been lost.
In practice
In a speech about the complexity of emotions in relationships.
We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled. Each second was two hundred yards, to be walked, crawled. You couldn't see the next hour, it was so far in the distance. Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.
She was not crying Which surprised me very much But I understand now That she had found places For her melancholy That were behind more masks Than only her eyes
What do babies dream of? She must be dreaming of the before-life, just as I dream of the afterlife.
A few weeks after the worst day, I started writing lots of letters. I don't know why, but it was one of the only things that made my boots lighter.
What is being awake if not interpreting our dreams, or dreaming if not interpreting our wake?
There is hardly a more gracious gift that we can offer somebody than to accept them fully, to love them almost despite themselves.
I will say that as I get older and calmer and quieter in my own self, the one quality in a woman that I find more and more attractive is kindness. A sense of adventure and humor is important too, but I truly find kindness and consideration for others to be the most attractive thing in anyone.
Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile.
Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd; Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen.
During the year 1894, Pierre Curie wrote me letters that seem to me admirable in their form. No one of them was very long, for he had the habit of concise expression, but all were written in a spirit of sincerity and with an evident anxiety to make the one he desired as a companion know him as he was.
If Christ be anything he must be everything. O rest not till love and faith in Jesus be the master passions of your soul!
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