Loving someone liberates the lover as well as the beloved. And that kind of love comes with age.
..because the only kind of love I have to offer is stupid and blind and so deep and powerful that I feel like I'm cracking just to hold it in.
But the kind of love that God created and demonstrated is a costly one because it involves sacrifice and presence. It's a love that operates more like a sign language than being spoken outright.
Each time of life has its own kind of love.
I knew even then how rare that kind of love is. Only the luckiest people get to experience it at all.
The only kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting and loving.
There is only one kind of love, but there are a thousand imitations.
If so many men, so many minds, certainly so many hearts, so many kinds of love.
Anyone who has ever experienced love knows that you can have too much or too little. You can have love that parches, love that defeats. You can have love measured out in the wrong proportions. It's like your sunlight and water - the wrong kind of love is just as likely to stifle hope as it is to nourish it.
And no kinds of love are better than others
Lately I've been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
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