Let’s start with this statistic: You are delicious. Be brave, my sweet. I know you can get lonely. I know you can crave companionship and sex and love so badly that it physically hurts. But I truly believe that the only way you can find out that there’s something better out there is to first… Continue reading Greg Behrendt
It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being. ― John Joseph Powell, The Secret of Staying in Love. (Argus Communications; 1st edition 1974)
It is better to be alone than to become a person that loses his soul to the fear of loneliness. ― Shannon L. Alder
Love is an activity, not a passive affect; it is a “standing in,” not a “falling for.” — Erich Fromm, The Art of Loving. (Harper Perennial Modern Classics; 15 Anv edition November 21, 2006) Originally published 1956.
Somewhere between love and hate lies confusion, misunderstanding and desperate hope. ― Shannon L. Alder
…and with a burning pain in my heart I realized how unnecessary, how petty, and how deceptive all that had hindered us from loving was. I understood that when you love you must either, in your reasonings about that love, start from what is highest, from what is more important than happiness or unhappiness, sin… Continue reading Anton Chekhov
sonnet, n. (NOTE ON THE LEAP: How rough and worn the weight of flight — the soul, when gathered, forms its own twinned claw and wing, each severed arc, the nape — all grown inside the body, left. Alone with loss, life rises: emblazoned air, trembling star of made faith. The fall that forms in… Continue reading David Levithan
Much like trains in India, grief is a circular, irrational process with no discernible rhythm or timetable. Here it comes, there it goes. ― Suzanne Finnamore, Split: A Memoir of Divorce. (Dutton Adult April 17, 2008)
… But right now, you and me here, put together entirely of atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that seems to trouble you, called gravity. All the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the milkyway at 600,000… Continue reading John Cusack
And silence, like darkness, can be kind; it, too, is a language. — Hanif Kureishi, Intimacy (Scribner, 1999)
