Hate is not the opposite of love
You can easily hate what you love.
Even more so you will most likely hate what you love.
For Love is addiction.
For Love is reliance.
For Love is what you are longing for.
Love is what you fear the most.
He was now in that state of fire that she loved.
She wanted to be burnt.
– Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus
Reality doesn’t impress me.
I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy,
and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape,
one way or another. No more walls.
– Anaïs Nin, Incest: From a Journal of Love
Our love of each other was like two long shadows kissing without hope of reality.
– Anaïs Nin
We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.
– Anaïs Nin
“Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman’s womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to be. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.
– Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last
Find what you love
and let it kill you.
– Charles Bukowski
I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.
– Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt
So it’s true,
when all is said and done,
grief is the price we pay for love.
– E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
Seek love foolishly.
Even if it kills you.
– Jarrett Lee Conaway
in life you got to be with the one you love
and leave the one you don’t