In this sense love is of a different order to any other phenomenon, for it may be both an event and a sign of that invisible mechanism I spoke of before; perhaps the finest sign, the most certain. In it’s throes we need neither luck nor science. We are the wheel, and the man who profits by it. We are the star, and the darkness it pierces. We are the butterfly, brief and beautiful.
Interpretation
Love transcends other experiences, symbolizing deeper truths about existence and connection.
In this quote, Clive Barker expresses the unique and multifaceted nature of love, suggesting that it serves as both an event in our lives and a profound indicator of deeper, unseen realities. Love, in its authenticity, requires neither randomness nor scientific explanation; it embodies a sense of purpose and beauty that illuminates our existence, expressing that we are intrinsically connected to both the joys and transient nature of life.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a wedding ceremony to emphasize the power and depth of love.
Of course it’s the apparently tranquil periods that deceive us. Though our instruments or our senses or our wits may not be able to see the processes that are leading toward these clusters of events, they’re happening. The star, the wheel, the butterfly—all are in a subtle state of unrest, waiting for the moment when some invisible mechanism signals that the time has come. Then the star explodes; the wheel makes poor men rich; the butterfly mates and dies.
We’re too much ourselves. Afraid of letting go of what we are, in case we are nothing, and holding on so tight, we lose everything else.
Perhaps a wiser eye than hers would be able to read tomorrow in tonight's stars, but where was the fun in that? It was better not to know. Better to be alive in the Here and the Now--in this bright, laughing moment--and let the Hours to come take care of themselves.
With the inevitability of a tongue returning to probe a painful tooth, we come back and back and back again to our fears, sitting to talk them over with the eagerness of a hungry man before a full and steaming plate.
You cut up a thing that's alive and beautiful to find out how it's alive and why it's beautiful, and before you know it, it's neither of those things, and you're standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.
I'm not the expert on the great gameplay. I come in for the character design, monsters, atmosphere. I'm not the technician.
She sat leaning back in her chair, looking ahead, knowing that he was as aware of her as she was of him. She found pleasure in the special self-consciousness it gave her. When she crossed her legs, when she leaned on her arm against the window sill, when she brushed her hair off her forehead - every movement of her body was underscored by a feeling the unadmitted words for which were: Is he seeing it?
Even Kings and emperors with heaps of wealth and vast dominion cannot compare with an ant filled with the love of God.
O what a heaven is love! O what a hell!
Duty makes us do things well, but love makes us do them beautifully.
Wine gives courage and makes men more apt for passion.
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
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