“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read.”
―
―
“Anger ... it's a paralyzing emotion ... you can't get anything done. People sort of think it's an interesting, passionate, and igniting feeling — I don't think it's any of that — it's helpless ... it's absence of control — and I need all of my skills, all of the control, all of my powers ... and anger doesn't provide any of that — I have no use for it whatsoever."
[Interview with CBS radio host Don Swaim, September 15, 1987.]”
―
[Interview with CBS radio host Don Swaim, September 15, 1987.]”
―
“Yesterday I stood at the temple door interrogating the passersby about the mystery and merit of Love.
And before me passed an old man with an emaciated and melancholy face, who sighed and said:
"Love is a natural weakness bestowed upon us by the first man."
But a virile youth retorted:
"Love joins our present with the past and the future."
Then a woman with a tragic face sighed and said:
"Love is a deadly poison injected by black vipers, that crawl from the caves of hell. The poison seems fresh as dew and the thirsty soul eagerly drinks it; but after the first intoxication the drinker sickens and dies a slow death."
Then a beautiful, rosy-cheeked damsel smilingly said:
"Love is a wine served by the brides of Dawn which strengthens strong souls and enables them to ascend to the stars."
After her a black-robed, bearded man, frowning, said:
"Love is a divine knowledge that enables men to see as much as the gods."
Then said a blind man, feeling his way with a cane:
"Love is a blinding mist that keeps the soul from discerning the secret of existence, so that the heart sees only trembling phantoms of desire among the hills, and hears only echoes of cries from voiceless valleys."
And a feeble ancient, dragging his feet like two rags, said, in quavering tones:
"Love is the rest of the body in the quiet of the grave, the tranquility of the soul in the depth of Eternity."
And a five-year-old child, after him, said laughing:
"Love is my father and mother, and no one knows Love save my father and mother."
And so, all who passed spoke of Love as the image of their hopes and frustrations, leaving it a mystery as before.”
―
And before me passed an old man with an emaciated and melancholy face, who sighed and said:
"Love is a natural weakness bestowed upon us by the first man."
But a virile youth retorted:
"Love joins our present with the past and the future."
Then a woman with a tragic face sighed and said:
"Love is a deadly poison injected by black vipers, that crawl from the caves of hell. The poison seems fresh as dew and the thirsty soul eagerly drinks it; but after the first intoxication the drinker sickens and dies a slow death."
Then a beautiful, rosy-cheeked damsel smilingly said:
"Love is a wine served by the brides of Dawn which strengthens strong souls and enables them to ascend to the stars."
After her a black-robed, bearded man, frowning, said:
"Love is a divine knowledge that enables men to see as much as the gods."
Then said a blind man, feeling his way with a cane:
"Love is a blinding mist that keeps the soul from discerning the secret of existence, so that the heart sees only trembling phantoms of desire among the hills, and hears only echoes of cries from voiceless valleys."
And a feeble ancient, dragging his feet like two rags, said, in quavering tones:
"Love is the rest of the body in the quiet of the grave, the tranquility of the soul in the depth of Eternity."
And a five-year-old child, after him, said laughing:
"Love is my father and mother, and no one knows Love save my father and mother."
And so, all who passed spoke of Love as the image of their hopes and frustrations, leaving it a mystery as before.”
―
“You can't own a human being. You can't lose what you don't own. Suppose you did own him. Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don't, do you? And neither does he. You're turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can't value you more than you value yourself.”
― Song of Solomon
― Song of Solomon
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