Love is the opposite of lust: respecting the other as an end unto himself or herself. When you love someone as an end unto himself, then there is no feeling of hurt; you become enriched through it. Love makes everybody rich.

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Love is the goal, life is the journey.

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I did not want to voice a word that would lift the cover and reveal that hideous emotion I always felt for her, the underside of love.

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The pleasure isn't in owning the person. The pleasure is this. Having another contender in the room with you.

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Because that is when you love somebody - when you see them being game in the face of the worst. Not courageous. Not heroic. Just game.

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The only obsession everyone wants: love. People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you're whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You're whole, and then you're cracked open.

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But when I want to draw close to someone, and fully commit myself, then my misery is assured. Then I am nothing, and what can I do with nothingness?

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Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.

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I'm thinking only of my illness and my health, though both, the first as well as the second, are you.

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Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.

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