It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tost upon the sea: a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle and the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure is comparable to standing upon the vantage ground of truth... and to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below.
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Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.
Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.
A meeting between two people who complete each other, who are made for each other, borders already, in my opinion, read more
A meeting between two people who complete each other, who are made for each other, borders already, in my opinion, on a miracle.
That in the beginning when the world was young there were a great many thoughts but no such thing as read more
That in the beginning when the world was young there were a great many thoughts but no such thing as truth. Man made the truths himself and each truth was a composite of a great many vague thoughts. All about in the world were truths and they were all beautiful.
There's nothing like a Catholic wedding to make you wish life had a fast forward button.
There's nothing like a Catholic wedding to make you wish life had a fast forward button.
I understand by this passion the union of desire, friendship, and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single female, which read more
I understand by this passion the union of desire, friendship, and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single female, which prefers her to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her possession as the supreme or the sole happiness of our being.
What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person. Are we not, for most of our lives, marking read more
What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person. Are we not, for most of our lives, marking time? Most of our being is at rest, unlived. In passion, the body and the spirit seek expression outside of self. Passion is all that is other from self. Sex is only interesting when it releases passion. The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead and that soon, come what may, we will be wholly so.
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
To understand is to perceive patterns.
To understand is to perceive patterns.
It's not till sex has died out between a man and a woman that they can really love. And now read more
It's not till sex has died out between a man and a woman that they can really love. And now I mean affection. Now I mean to be fond of (as one is fond of oneself) --to hope, to be disappointed, to live inside the other heart. When I look back on the pain of sex, the love like a wild fox so ready to bite, the antagonism that sits like a twin beside love, and contrast it with affection, so deeply unrepeatable, of two people who have lived a life together (and of whom one must die) it's the affection I find richer. It's that I would have again. Not all those doubtful rainbow colors.
