from The Lathe of Heaven Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, read more

from The Lathe of Heaven Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.

Once my heart was captured, reason was shown the door, deliberately and with a sort of frantic joy. I accepted read more

Once my heart was captured, reason was shown the door, deliberately and with a sort of frantic joy. I accepted everything, I believed everything, without struggle, without suffering, without regret, without false shame. How can one blush for what one adores?

The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. We can never really read more

The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. We can never really love anybody with whom we never laugh. Love is in the giver, not the gift. He told me that once he forgot himself and opened up like a door with a loose latch and everything fell out and he tried for days to put it all back in the proper order, but he finally gave up and left if there in a pile and loved everything equally. thanks to a subscriber!

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

The more familiar two people become, the more the language they speak together departs from that of the ordinary, dictionary-defined read more

The more familiar two people become, the more the language they speak together departs from that of the ordinary, dictionary-defined discourse. Familiarity creates a new language, an in-house language of intimacy that carries reference to the story the two lovers are weaving together and that cannot be readily understood by others.

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they read more

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.

Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.

Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third read more

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.