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Love's very pain is sweet,_x000D_ _x000D_ But its reward is in the world divine_x000D_ _x000D_ Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Interpretation

What this quote means

Love can cause suffering, yet the joy it brings is profound and transcendent.

In this quote, Shelley conveys the idea that while love may involve pain and heartbreak, the ultimate reward of love is a transcendent joy that reaches beyond our earthly existence. He suggests that the beauty and depth of love are so significant that they persist even after death, hinting at a divine connection that love fosters, making any associated pain worth enduring for the sake of its rewards.

Themes

LovePainRewardDivineJoySuffering

In practice

Example use cases

During a wedding speech, you might say, 'As Percy Bysshe Shelley beautifully expressed, love's very pain is sweet, highlighting the depth of the bond you're celebrating today.'

More from Percy Bysshe Shelley

A dream has power to poison sleep.
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Senseless is the breast and cold _x000D_ _x000D_ Which relenting love would fold;_x000D_ _x000D_ Bloodless are the veins and chill _x000D_ _x000D_ Which the pulse of pain did fill; _x000D_ _x000D_ Every little living nerve _x000D_ _x000D_ That from bitter words did swerve _x000D_ _x000D_ Round the tortur'd lips and brow, _x000D_ _x000D_ Are like sapless leaflets now _x000D_ _x000D_ Frozen upon December's bough.
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A sensitive plant in a garden grew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And the young winds fed it with silver dew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And it opened its fan_x000D_ _x000D_ like leaves to the light,_x000D_ _x000D_ and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
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I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Percy Bysshe ShelleyRead
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
Percy Bysshe ShelleyRead

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