Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have so to speak pawned a part of their narcissism.

We are born to love as we are born to die and between the heartbeats of those two great mysteries lies all the tangled undergrowth of our tiny lives. There is nowhere to go but through. And so we walk on lost and lost again in the mapless wilderness of love.

The whole image is that eternal suffering awaits anyone who questions Gods infinite love. Thats the message were brought up with isnt it Believe or die Thank you forgiving Lord for all those options.

I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And Im sorry to leave you.

And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.

Lost love is still love Eddie. It takes a different form thats all. You cant see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those sense weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.Life has to end she said. Love doesnt.

Two minds with but a single thought two hearts that beat as one.

Isnt it funny.Im enjoying my hatred so much more than i ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you changes its mind. But hatred now thats something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. Its hard or soft however you need it. Love humiliates you but Hatred cradles you.

What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor to rest on each other in all sorrow to minister to each other in all pain to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting

Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesnt matter only feelings matter. If they could make me stop loving you-that would be the real betrayal.