If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
Robert BrowningRead
What's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth — Compared with love, found, gained, and kept?
Interpretation
The quote suggests that no amount of artistic or material achievement can compare to the value of love.
In this quote, Robert Browning emphasizes the paramount importance of love over all human creations such as art, poetry, and music. He questions the worth of these achievements when weighed against the profound emotional fulfillment that comes from love, suggesting that love is the ultimate treasure in life that surpasses any material or artistic accomplishment.
In practice
This quote can be used in a wedding speech to highlight the importance of love in a marriage.
If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds_x000D_ _x000D_ All the world's loves in its unworldliness.
I dare not so honor my mere wishes and prayers as to put them for a moment beside your noble acts; but this know, I would rather submit to the worst of deaths, so far as pain goes, than have a single dog or cat tortured on the pretence of sparing me a twinge or two.
How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come, And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life’s November too! I shall be found by the fire, suppose, O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows, And I turn the page, and I turn the page, Not verse now, only prose!
How good is life, the mere living!
Maybe the poets are right. Maybe love is the only answer.
Practicing love often means feeling through fear: intentionally opening yourself when you would rather close down, giving yourself when you would rather hide. Love means recognizing yourself as the open fullness of this moment regardless of its contents -- trenchant thoughts, enchanting pleasures, heavy emotions, or gnawing pains -- and surrendering all hold on the familiar act you call 'me'.
What is this terror? what is this ecstasy? he thought to himself. What is it that fills me with this extraordinary excitement? It is Clarissa, he said. For there she was.
I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I do not love you: I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world.
The eyes those silent tongues of love.
Love is simply the name for the desire and the pursuit of the whole.
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