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Love does not pass, it simply changes shape. It takes a different form when it meets an obstacle that will not move.

Excellent. It put me in the mood to read more Barnes soon.

That's the way with complex trauma,’ she said. It's more than one event, or even several. It's like this tinge af horror that suffuses everything.

I think we love people on a sliding scale. Some days we‘re at one hundred and other times we're at eighty or sixty or fifty.

The thing about happiness was that nobody was ever really aware of it in the moment.

Time is like the painter's lie, no line around apple or along thigh, though the apple aches to its sweet edge, strains to its skin, the seam of density. Invisible line closest to touch.

Time is like the painter's lie, no line sround apple or along thigh, though the apple aches to its sweet edge, strains to its skin, the seam of density. Invisible line closest to touch.

Perhaps loneliness is the real proof that we belong to something greater than ourselves, the way absence is proof of what was once a presence.

People ask, do you dream in colour? But I wonder, is there sound in your dreams?

I observed that procreation is not the only meaning of life for then life in itself would become meaningless and something which in itself is meaningless cannot be rendered meaningful merely by its perpetuation.

When you are alone - at sea, in the polar dark - an absence can keep you alive. The one you love maintains your mind. But when she's merely across the city, this is an absence that eats you to the bone.

When you are alone - at sea, in the polar dark - an absence can keep you alive. The one you love maintains your mind. Bu when she's merely across the city, this is an absence that eats you to the bone.

"For those who have conquered the mind, it is their friend. For those who have failed to do so, the mind works like an enemy."

(This was written in the second century BCE).

[...] couples choose each other with an unerring instinct for finding the very person who will exactly match their own level of unconscious anxieties and mirror their own dysfunctions, and who will trigger for them all their unresolved emotional pain.

But he didn’t know me anymore, as the trouble with knowing people is how the target keeps moving.

Each time we visited a place for sale, we were intrigued by all the different lives happening in the city, the arrangement of space to work and rest, to store and display; the priorities of strangers that were so different from our own.

This may be the right place to remark that I had long since learned that if one is entertaining unpopular ideas, one has only to keep quiet and wait for the invisible wheels to turn that will bring those ideas back as the last word in intelligent and forward-looking thinking.

There are times in one’s life when it seems as if everything that happens streams together, each event, or person, or even an overheard remark becoming an aspect of a whole - a confluence whose sources go back into the past, reach forward into the future.

For the Sumerians, royalty was held to have descended fron the sky; its origin was divine, and this conception remained in force until the disappearance of the Assyro-Babylonian civilization.

Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
That due of many now is thine alone:
Their images I lov’d, I view in thee,
And thou (all they) hast all the all of me. (Sonnet 31)

Sonnet VIII

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
[...]

Because communism has turned out so badly, proved itself not only one of the bloodiest tyrannies ever, but also so inefficient that any type of regime, no matter how bad, is preferred to it, we forget that communism was born out of the ancient dream of justice for everybody.

Because communism has turned out so badly, proved itself not only one of the bloodiest tyrannies ever, but also so inefficient that any type of regime, no matter how bad, is preferred to it, we forget that communism was born out of the ancient dream of justice for everybody.
[

But for two thousand years Europe was under a tyrant—the Christian church—which allowed no other way of thinking, cut off all influences from outside, did not hesitate to kill, extirpate, persecute, burn and torture in the name of God.

Negative rules may themselves generate actions they prohibit. If you want people not to do something they are not doing, do not forbid it. There is a better chance that I will not think what I have not yet thought, if you do not tell me not to.

There were quite long intervals when he did not think at all of her, when her personality was like an engaging book on a shelf by one’s chair that one has only to put out a hand for, but does not put out a hand for. Perhaps half the pleasure in some of these visits remained in returning to somewhere where she was not. Some effervescence she set up in him, subsiding, left a sediment [...]

Love is so wise a poet that he can make another the same; at least everyone becomes a poet whom Love touches, even one who before that, had no music in his soul. This we may fittingly use as a proof that Love is a good poet or active maker in practically all the creations of the fine arts; for what one has not or knows not, one can neither give to another not teach another.
(Love is obviously a metaphor for God)

Love is so wise a poet that he can make another the same; at least everyone becomes a poet whom Love touches, even one who before that, had no music in his soul. This we may fittingly use as a proof that Love is a good poet or active maker in practically all the creations of the fine arts; for what one has not or knows not, one can neither give to another not teach another.
(Love obviously is a metaphor for God)