Thepianoguys-Bring Him Home (from Les Misérables)
The art of lovingErich Fromm
Love is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love
were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise
to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go.
How can I judge that it will stay forever, when my act does
not involve judgment and decision.
Love is not primarily a relationship to a specific person;
it is an attitude, an ordination of character which determines
the relatedness of the person to the whole world as a whole,
not toward one object of love.
If a person loves only one other person and is indifferent
to all others, his love is not love but a symbiotic attachment,
or an enlarged egotism.
Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself
completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved
person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith
is also of little love.
Edouard Bisson Art
When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic
unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are
concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries
of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings
of the same spirit. Love, soar.
Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Edouard Bisson painting
O love, whose lordly hand
Has bridled my desires,
And raised my hunger and my thirst
To dignity and pride,
Let not the strong in me and the constant
Eat the bread or drink the wine
That tempt my weaker self.
Let me rather starve,
And let my heart parch with thirst,
And let me die and perish,
Ere I stretch my hand
To a cup you did not fill,
Or a bowl you did not bless.
Khalil Gibran,"Love"
From:Forerunner: His Parables and Poems
Friendship
I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Henry David Thoreau
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.
I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.
I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.
For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.
A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.
But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favorite retreat,
Of loveliness;
When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates
Eternally;
And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing Love's bands more tight,
Service he ne'er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;
In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move
Resistlessly.
Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong
Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.
Thank you. This is beautiful :)
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