We are victims of our insecurity. Insecurity is translated into areas of our life we fail to place hope and love.
Does love flow out of life or does life flow out of love?
Love allows hope to transpire. It is a habitat for joy. An incubus for the impossible to believe again.
Love is the beauty of the soul expressed in action.
Our world will not see justice until there is peace. Peace will not be attained until love is placed as president about all other emotion, decision, or desire.
The opposite of love is greed. Greed hungers for power.money.influence. It annihilates opposing powers and rebukes love.
Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable; always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.
Ann Radcliffe, The Mysteries of Udolpho, 1764
It has been said ones first love is perfect, until one meets one's second love. (Elizabeth Aston). Remember you first love? That feeling of infinite perfection. The waking at daybreak, and instead of the dread of another day stealing your joy, a smile creeps across your face. You remember their eyes, and their desire for you.
Why has love become a cliched word? How often do we write about LOVE. Our musings are constantly over this emotion. Our soul desire is to love and be loved in return.
postsecret creator says the most postcards he receives are ones fear and desire to find the one whom they can share their deepest secrets with.
Why do we search for a seemingly unattainable thing.
Love is a verb. Love is an adjective. It is an emotion. A knowledge. And yet it is rarely seen in the passing of a day.
We post 'Do not disturb' signs on our heads and proceed the day with not so much as a smile from our colleagues or strangers.
I often finish my conversations with my friends with 'love you'. Sometimes I say it to strangers on the phone by mistake. I hope they laugh and smile, and pass that smile onto someone having a particularly bad day.
Love. is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.