Bohemia is nothing more than the little country in which you do not live. If you try to obtain citizenship in it, at once the court and retinue pack the royal archives and treasure and move away beyond the hills.
O. HenryRead
She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed--necessary but scarcely noticed.
Interpretation
The quote illustrates how deeply intertwined two people's lives can become, to the point where one person's presence is essential yet often taken for granted.
In this quote by O. Henry, the author metaphorically describes a relationship where one partner has seamlessly integrated into the other's life. The comparison to air emphasizes the essential nature of their bond, suggesting that while one might not consciously acknowledge their partner's presence, they play a vital role in their existence, much like the air we breathe goes unnoticed yet is crucial for life.
In practice
In a wedding speech, one might say this quote to highlight the importance of companionship.
Bohemia is nothing more than the little country in which you do not live. If you try to obtain citizenship in it, at once the court and retinue pack the royal archives and treasure and move away beyond the hills.
It's said that love makes the world go around. Let me tell you, the announcement lacks verification. It's the wind from the dinner horn that does it.
Yes, I get dry spells. Sometimes I can't turn out a thing for three months. When one of those spells comes on I quit trying to work and go out and see something of life. You can't write a story that's got any life in it by sitting at a writing table and thinking. You've got to get out into the streets, into the crowds, talk with people, and feel the rush and throb of real life-that's the stimulant for a story writer.
But the best, in my opinion, was the home life in the little flat--the ardent, voluble chats after the day's study; the cozy dinners and fresh, light breakfasts; the interchange of ambitions--ambitions interwoven each with the other's or else inconsiderable--the mutual help and inspiration; and--overlook my artlessness--stuffed olives and cheese sandwiches at 11 p.m.
You can't appreciate home till you've left it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a woman's club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.
He seemed to be made of sunshine and blood-red tissue and clear weather.
I think we need more love in the world. We need more kindness, more compassion, more joy, more laughter. I definitely want to contribute to that.
But you can love more than just one person, can't you?
True love is visible not to the eyes but to the heart, for eyes may be deceived.
It hurts to love. It's like giving yourself to be flayed and knowing that at any moment the other person may just walk off with your skin.
We turned onto the last landing. Going out with this guy, I thought, would involve a lot of silly laughter, some wit--the buzz of his whispered wisecracks in my ear. But there would be as well his willingness to reveal, or more his inability to conceal, that he had been silently rehearsing my name as he climbed the stairs behind me. There would be his willingness to bestow upon me the power to reassure him. He would trust me with his happiness.
Deep at the center of my being there is an infinite well of love. I now allow this love to flow to the surface.
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