My dear heart, never think you are better than others. Listen to their sorrows with compassion. If you want peace, don't harbor bad thoughts, do not gossip and don't teach what you do not know.
RumiRead
Apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
Interpretation
This quote expresses the deep connection between two individuals who, despite being separate bodies, are united in spirit.
Rumi's quote beautifully captures the essence of a profound emotional bond between two people. It emphasizes that true love transcends physical boundaries and highlights the idea that two individuals can be distinct and yet harmoniously connected at a soulful level, reflecting the unity that exists in their love and understanding for one another.
In practice
This quote could be shared at a wedding to celebrate the bond between two lovers.
My dear heart, never think you are better than others. Listen to their sorrows with compassion. If you want peace, don't harbor bad thoughts, do not gossip and don't teach what you do not know.
The Law of Wonder rules my life at last, _x000D_ ...I burn each second of my life to Love _x000D_ Each second of my life burns out in Love _x000D_ In each leaping second Love lives afresh.
Lovers have heartaches _x000D_ That can't be cured by drugs _x000D_ Or sleep, _x000D_ Or games, _x000D_ But only by seeing their beloved.
Every fragile beauty, every perfect forgotten sentence, you grieve their going away, but that is not how it is. Where they come from never goes dry. It is an always flowing spring.
Whatever you keep hidden in your heart, God _x000D_ manifests in you outwardly. Whatever the root of _x000D_ the tree feeds on in secret, affects the bough and _x000D_ the leaf.
Come on sweetheart let's adore one another before there is no more of you and me
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
When you've been raised in a home of love, and for your loved one to be taken away from you through violence, a lot of emotions go through your mind.
Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.
Well, He had known what love was-a sharp pang, a fierce experience, in the midst of whose flames he was struggling! but, through that furnace he would fight his way out into the serenity of middle age,-all the richer and more human for having known this great passion.
But what happens when her beauty is torn from her like a cover from a book? Will he care to read her then, although her pages speak of nothing but love for him?
It was, at last, real life, with my heart safe and condemned to die of happy love in the joyful agony of any day after my hundredth birthday.
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