Mar 09, 2005 20:01
-Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation
-Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart
-Depression, when it’s clinical, is not a metaphor. It runs in families, and it’s known to respond to medication and to counseling.
However truly you believe there’s a sickness to existence that can never be cured, if you’re depressed you will sooner or later surrender and say: I just don’t want to feel bad anymore.
The shift from depressive realism to tragic realism, from being immobilized by darkness to being sustained by it, thus strangely seems to require believing in the possibility of a cure…
-Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.
-love can be magic...magic is an illusion
-if i stumble will you laugh
-if i fall will you pick me up
-will you kick me when im down
-will you stay indorrs when im outside
Will you be my friend?