Love, What Fools These Mortals Be!
Anyone who has not loved once, madly, passionately, deeply, however culpable this may be (and such a headlong torrent of passion is indeed a stain and a presumption and a selfishness that can never be wiped away), has not truly known the true heights and depths and boundless, buzzing, expansiveness of these two worlds…
The inner and the outer, within, are one.
Benjamin Constant’s ‘Adolphe’ says:
‘Woe to the man who in the first moments of a love-affair does not believe that it will last forever!’
Take it all. No zero, and no half-measures.
Be wise, be sober, be vigilant, and anticipate the silver hairs of smoke: but do not ever once renounce or regret.
A man who has been once a devil and an angel has found his most immeasurably honorable of stations, perched midway between Heaven and Hell, between an infinite abundance below and a dizzying emptiness above.
There is almost nothing worse than an irresponsible young rake with an ocean of passion and sentiment, and a famine of reason.
But the one more thrice-damned creature than he, is the one who loves in mere respectable moderation, the first time his heart unfolds itself to the embrace of his another.
Abiding loves may be of earth and not of heaven; but let not one faltering soul lack the courage to say:
“I accept it all. I renounce nothing. And if love henceforth should be an affair of meadows and homely plains and not of starry heights, then let me not, for all that, be ungracious to what I have been given and what, for my part, I have also flowered forth in offering, in innocence, out of the abundance of the treasures of my beauty.”
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