The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
Yasunari KawabataRead
A secret, if it's kept, can be sweet and comforting, but once it leaks out it can turn on you with a vengeance.
Interpretation
Keeping a secret can provide comfort, but if revealed, it may have negative consequences.
This quote suggests that the act of keeping a secret can create a sense of solace and security; however, the implications of that secret becoming known can lead to unexpected and harsh repercussions. It highlights the dual nature of secrets, where their protective quality can shift dramatically when they are exposed, often resulting in feelings of betrayal or regret.
In practice
When giving a speech about the importance of trust in relationships, this quote illustrates the potential dangers of keeping secrets.
The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
The woman was silent, her eyes on the floor. Shimamura had come to a point where he knew he was only parading his masculine shamelessness, and yet it seemed likely enough that the woman was familiar with the failing and need not be shocked by it. He looked at her. Perhaps it was the rich lashes of the downcast eyes that made her face seem warm and sensuous. She shook her head very slightly, and again a faint blush spread over her face.
The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.
The winter moon becomes a companion, the heart of the priest, sunk in meditation upon religion and philosophy, there in the mountain hall, is engaged in a delicate interplay and exchange with the moon; and it is this of which the poet sings.
Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words.
Lunatics have no age. If we were crazy, you and I, we might be a great deal younger.
When a solipsist dies ... everything goes with him.
O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,_x000D_ That draws oblivion's curtains over kings;_x000D_ Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not,_x000D_ Their names without a record are forgot,_x000D_ Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th' dust_x000D_ Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time's rust;_x000D_ But he whose name is graved in the white stone_x000D_ Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.
We need to have empathy. When we lose empathy, we lose our humanity.
Let the Fourth of July always be a reminder that here in this land, for the first time, it was decided that man is born with certain God-given rights; that government is only a convenience created and managed by the people, with no powers of its own except those voluntarily granted to it by the people. We sometimes forget that great truth, and we never should. Happy Fourth of July.
When majority is insane, sane must go to asylum.
Some people strengthen the society just by being the kind of people they are.
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