Durability Love Quotes

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our natural lives.

I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come out of him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. ...I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

human relationships simply aren't durable. I think back to the women in my life. they seem non-existent.

But Love is a durable fire in the mind ever burning Never sick, never old, never dead From itself, never turning.

True marriage begins well before the wedding day,” And the efforts of marriage continue well beyond the ceremony’s end. A brief moment in time and the stroke of the pen are all that is needed to create the legal bond of marriage, but it takes a lifetime of love, commitment, forgiveness, and compromise to make marriage durable and everlasting.

The love, born of beauty was not mine; I had nothing in common with it: I could not dare to meddle with it, but another love, venturing diffidently into life after long acquaintance, furnace-tried by pain, stamped by constancy, consolidated by affection’s pure and durable alloy, submitted by intellect to intellect’s own tests, and finally wrought up, by his own process, to his own unflawed completeness, this Love that laughed at Passion, his fast frenzies and his hot and hurried extinction, in this Love I had a vested interest; and whatever tended either to its culture or its destruction, I could not view impassibly.

And then our Mum and Dad were in love and they were truly dry-stone strong and durable and people speak of ease and joy and spontaneity and the fact that their two smells became one smell, our smell. Us.

Thus, neither of us is alive when the reader opens this book. But while the blood still throbs through my writing hand, you are still as much part of blessed matter as I am, and I can still talk to you from here to Alaska. Be true to your Dick. Do not let other fellows touch you. Do not talk to strangers. I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come at him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. And do not pity C. Q. One had to choose between him and H.H., and one wanted H.H. to exist at least a couple of months longer, so as to have him make you live in the minds of later generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

But what is the philosophy of this generation? Not God is dead, that point was passed long ago. Perhaps it should be stated Death is God. This generation thinks – and this is its thought of thoughts – that nothing faithful, vulnerable, fragile can be durable or have any true power. Death waits for these things as a cement floor waits for a dropping light bulb. The brittle shell of glass loses its tiny vacuum with a burst, and that is that. And this is how we teach metaphysics on each other. "You think history is the history of loving hearts? You fool! Look at these millions of dead. Can you pity them, feel for them? You can nothing! There were too many. We burned them to ashes, we buried them with bulldozers. History is the history of cruelty, not love as soft men think.

It is more difficult to undermine faith than knowledge, love succumbs to change less than to respect, hatred is more durable than aversion, and at all times the driving force of the most important changes in this world has been found less in a scientific knowledge animating the masses, but rather in a fanaticism dominating them and in a hysteria which drove them forward.

This principle - that your spouse should be capable of becoming your best friend - is a game changer when you address the question of compatibility in a prospective spouse. If you think of marriage largely in terms of erotic love, then compatibility means sexual chemistry and appeal. If you think of marriage largely as a way to move into the kind of social status in life you desire, then compatibility means being part of the desired social class, and perhaps common tastes and aspirations for lifestyle. The problem with these factors is that they are not durable. Physical attractiveness will wane, no matter how hard you work to delay its departure. And socio-economic status unfortunately can change almost overnight. When people think they have found compatibility based on these things, they often make the painful discovery that they have built their relationship on unstable ground. A woman 'lets herself go' or a man loses his job, and the compatibility foundation falls apart.

I have also come to understand that although some people are naturally happier than others, their happiness is still vulnerable and incomplete, and that achieving durable happiness as a way of being is a skill. It requires sustained effort in training the mind and developing a set of human qualities, such as inner peace, mindfulness, and altruistic love.

Love always hurts, Always. It’s what you do with it that makes it durable.

We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That’s what love is, I think. It’s all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it’s durable. It lasts.

A low thrum in his gut. Love. What is the measure of such a thing? Love, or the word love, is like an elusive jungle bird that because it is so durable has thousands of mimics and camouflaged neighbors.

It is in the giving up of self that human beings can find the most ecstatic and lasting, solid, durable joy of life. And it is death that provides life with all its meaning. This “secret” is the central wisdom of religion. The process of giving up the self (which is

No sorries. We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That’s what love is, I think. It’s all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it’s durable. It lasts.

As a house can be only be built satisfactorily and durably when there is a foundation, and a picture can be painted only when there is something prepared to paint it on, so carnal love is only legitimate, reasonable, and lasting when it is based on the respect and love of one human being for another.

Rufus didn’t pay any attention to the voice back then. At that time, he attributed the voice to his lack of confidence, causing him to doubt the durability of his friendship with Melissa. But as the years passed, the voice became louder in his head, and it seemed to be someone else’s. It didn’t sound like Rufus did when he spoke. And it didn’t think like he thought. The most crucial difference between Rufus and the voice was that it didn’t tell the truth because the truth was that only good things had happened to him since he’d met Melissa.

This is how you are toughened, the newest wife reasoned. This is where the tenacity of love is practiced; its tensile strength, its durability. You are being tested and you are passing the test; sweet girl, sweet self, look how good you are; look how loyal, look how loved.

Here is the knowledge, so easy and mean: find what they love and wreck it. Simple.

The children's lives would never be the same after today. Their opinions of everything would change, but especially their opinions of themselves, of the durability of love and the truth of their family. They would know forever that their father hadn't loved their mother--or them--enough to stay with them through hard times.

Her death leaves me both depleted and emboldened. That's what tragedy does to you, I am learning. The sadness and wild freedom of it all impart a strange durability. I feel weathered and detached, tucking my head against the winds and trudging forward into life.

The Mularkeys all saw love as a durable, reliable thing, easy to recognize... Love could be more fragile than a sparrow's bone.

Emotions have cycles whereas love endures. Some people confuse emotions, which are ever-changing, with love's durability.

I am convinced that love is the most durable power in the world. It is not an expression of impractical idealism, but of practical realism. Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, love is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. To return hate for hate does nothing but intensify the existence of evil in the universe. Someone must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and evil, and this can only be done through love.” — Martin Luther King Jr.

Durability is one of the chief elements of strength. Nothing is either loved or feared but that which is likely to endure.

True love is durable and hard to find.

That’s what love is, I think. It’s all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it’s durable. It lasts.

Sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror, any mirror, and you wonder why that nose looks as it does, or those eyes--what is behind them, what depths can they reach. Your flesh, your skin, your lips--you know that that face which you behold is not yours alone but is already something which belongs to those who love it, to your family and all those who esteem you. But a person is more than a face or a bundle of nerves and a spigot of blood; a person is more than talking and feeling and being sensitive to the changes in the weather, to the opinions of people. A person is part of a clan, a race. And knowing this, you wonder where you came from and who preceded you; you wonder if you are strong, as you know those who lived before you were strong, and then you realize that there is a durable thread which ties you to a past you did not create but which created you. Then you know that you have to be sure about who you are and if you are not sure or if you do not know, you have to go back, trace those who hold the secret to your past. The search may not be fruitful; from this moment of awareness, there is nothing more frustrating than the belief that you have been meaningless. A man who knows himself can live with his imperfections; he knows instinctively that he is part of a wave that started from great, unnavigable expanses.

Can we discuss this after the wedding?" "No." Damn. It was worth a shot. "Fine." I glanced around the car. How does one ask for privacy in the back of a limo occupied by eight observers? To their credit, my friends did their best impression of quality assurance engineers, checking the seat cushions for stitch durability and picking lint from the carpet.

Silence—the applause of real and durable impressions—was broken by no one; each respected in the other the thoughts he felt to be the same as his own.

Love is the most durable power in the world. This creative force, so beautifully exemplified in the life of our Christ, is the most potent instrument available in mankind’s quest for peace and security.

How many thousands of stories like yours have been told and forgotten how many stories of lovingly durable nurses of hospital sheets of IV tubes dripping saline and morphine How many stories of drugs that would haul you along in their wake for a while but finally let you sink

I will always be there, I will say to you, the next time. Even after the door. It's neither a gift nor a promise. It's a natural phenomenon. As durable but no more so than a mountain. You can climb on me for millions of years. I am stable, etched by ravines, immobile, torn and flooded by torrential springs.

Human relationships simply aren’t durable.

To a person who loves, is not absence the most certain, the most effective, the most durable, the most indestructible, the most faithful of presences?

Sometimes it felt like we were forged out of something more durable than love—or maybe loyalty is just love fossilized.

Love is the only durable glue that can hold us all together in this world. Without it, we will continue to live in a climate of instability.

I would think of a thousand things, Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly, One after one, like tasting sweet food. I have need to busy my heart with quietude. - The Busy Heart

achieving durable happiness as a way of being is a skill. It requires sustained effort in training the mind and developing a set of human qualities, such as inner peace, mindfulness, and altruistic love.

I guess my mama was right about love. As screwed up as she is, she understands the durability and lunacy of it. You can’t make yourself fall in love, I suppose, and you can’t make yourself fall out of it.

Love-matches, my dear, are foolish things. I know not how you will find it some time hence: No general rule, however, without exceptions, you know. Violent Love on one side, is enough in conscience, if the other be not a fool, or ungrateful: The Lover and Lovée make generally the happiest couple. Mild, sedate convenience, is better than a stark staring-mad passion. The wall-climbers, the hedge and ditchleapers, the river-forders, the window-droppers, always find reason to think so. Who ever hears of darts, flames, Cupids, Venus’s, Adonis’s, and suchlike nonsense, in matrimony? — Passion is transitory; but discretion, which never bois over, gives durable  happiness.

We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That’s what love is, I think. It’s all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it’s durable. It lasts. Never once in all of it—the dust, the drought, the fights with you

I am capable of all the passions, for I bear them all within me. Like a tamer of wild beasts, I keep them caged and lassoed, but I sometimes hear them growling. I have stifled more than one nascent love. Why? Because with that prophetic certainty which belongs to moral intuition, I felt it lacking in true life, and less durable than myself. I choked it down in the name of the supreme affection to come. The loves of sense, of imagination, of sentiment, I have seen through and rejected them all; I sought the love which springs from the central profundities of being. And I still believe in it. I will have none of those passions of straw which dazzle, burn up, and wither; I invoke, I await, and I hope for the love which is great, pure and earnest, which lives and works in all the fibers and through all the powers of the soul. And even if I go lonely to the end, I would rather my hope and my dream died with me, than that my soul should content itself with any meaner union.

No worries. We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That's what love is, I think. It's all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it's durable. It lasts. Never once in all of it - the dust, the drought, the fights with you - never once did I stop loving you or Ant or the farm.

What was powerful at thirteen and seventeen should have grown quaint by twenty-four, and yet the covenant, by its nature had durability. It still existed between them. He could feel it even now. You could go away for months and years, but it was still here, bound to what you loved, binding you to it.

When much of our lives has been committed to protecting ourselves from the God we believe has betrayed us, left us, or at the very least simply never shown up, it is not easy to create new brain-cell firing patterns—neural networks—that are durable enough to carry our experiential belief that we are loved.

He can remind himself that all beauty in plants and animals is a quiet and durable form of love and longing, and he can see the animal, as also the plant, patiently and willingly joining and multiplying and growing, not from physical pleasure, not from physical suffering, but bowing to necessities which are greater than pleasure and pain and more powerful than desire and resistance. Oh if only mankind could embrace this mystery, which penetrates the earth right into its smallest elements, with more humility, and bear and sustain it with more gravity and know how terribly heavy it is, instead of taking it lightly.

...I have always believed I cd diagnose this state of being in love, which they regard as most particular, as inspired by item, one pair of black eyes or indifferent blue, item, one graceful attitude of body or mind, item, one female history of some twenty-two years from, shall we say, 1821-1844--I have always believed this in love to be something of the most abstract masking itself under the particular forms of both lover and beloved. And Poet, who assumes and informs both. I wd have told you--no, I do tell you--friendship is rarer, more idiosyncratic, more individual and in every way more durable than this Love.

Persons in their most developed form are conscious, reflexive, embodied, self-transcending centers of subjective experience, durable identity, moral commitment, and social communication who—as the efficient cause of their own responsible actions and interactions—exercise complex capacities for agency and inter-subjectivity in order to sustain their own incommunicable selves in loving relationships with other personal selves and with the non-personal world.

Our lives are intertwined, and my life is not mine alone, but shared with her. My living makes her life better, and she tells me so -- it's that simple and that profound. I think it's accurate to call my injuries "catastrophic," and it's a testament to the sheer durability of our feelings for each other that the love that was so vital and alive before the accident survived without a scratch. This fact, more than any other, makes my inexpressibly difficult life livable...

If play expires in itself without creating anything durable and vital, it is only play, but in the other case it is called creative work. Out of a playful movement of elements whose interrelations are not immediately apparent, patterns arise which an observant and critical intellect can only evaluate afterwards. The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect, but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the object it loves.

It took me many more years of prospective follow-up, and many more years of emotional growth, to learn to take love seriously. What it looks like—God, a nurse, a child, a good Samaritan, or any of its other guises—is different for everybody. But love is love. At age seventy-five, Camille took the opportunity to describe in greater detail how love had healed him. This time he needed no recourse to Freud or Jesus. Before there were dysfunctional families, I came from one. My professional life hasn’t been disappointing—far from it—but the truly gratifying unfolding has been into the person I’ve slowly become: comfortable, joyful, connected and effective. Since it wasn’t widely available then, I hadn’t read that children’s classic, The Velveteen Rabbit, which tells how connectedness is something we must let happen to us, and then we become solid and whole. As that tale recounts tenderly, only love can make us real. Denied this in boyhood for reasons I now understand, it took me years to tap substitute sources. What seems marvelous is how many there are and how restorative they prove. What durable and pliable creatures we are, and what a storehouse of goodwill lurks in the social fabric. . . . I never dreamed my later years would be so stimulating and rewarding. That convalescent year, transformative though it was, was not the end of Camille’s story. Once he grasped what had happened, he seized the ball and ran with it, straight into a developmental explosion that went on for thirty years. A

There is the space of encounters which allow one to trace out an absolute limit to the analogy between the social world and the physical world. This is basically because two particles never encounter one another except where their rupture phenomena can be deduced from laboratory observations. The encounter is that durable instant where intensities manifest between the forms-of-life present in each individual. It is, even above the social and communications, the territory that actualizes the potentials of bodies and actualizes itself in the differences of intensity that they give off and comprise. Encounters are above language, outside of words, in the virgin lands of the unspoken, in suspended animation, a potential of the world which is also its negation, its “power to not be.” What is other people? “Another possible world,” responds Deleuze. The Other incarnates the possibility that the world has of not being, of being otherwise. This is why in the so-called “primitive” societies war takes on the primordial importance of annihilating any other possible world. It is pointless, however, to think about conflict without also thinking about enjoyment, to think about war without thinking about love. In each tumultuous birth of love, the fundamental desire to transform oneself by transforming the world is reborn. The hate and suspicion that lovers excite around them is an automatic defensive response to the war they wage, merely by loving each other, against a world where all passion must misunderstand itself and die off.

Things are lovely throughout nature in exact proportion to their rarity; ugliness is the norm towards which all things tend. Flowers appear briefly and wither quickly, but the dirt and manure from which they spring and to which they at once return endure indestructibly. Genius appears here and there, accidentally, among men, but it is forever engulfed in the ocean of stupidity that gives no hint of being accidental. And indeed, a man of genius can be rendered an idiot by the slightest physiological disturbance, but a dolt cannot be rendered a genius by all the powers of heaven and earth, so durable is that state

Does the gospel only offer a guarded, small message for women? Or does the gospel overturn the culture's small, diminishing, and often degrading message for women with a clarion call to live within the boundless parameters Jesus defines -- to "love the Lord your God will all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength" (Mark 12:30)? Who tells us who we are? Who alone has the right to define our worth? Are we at the mercy of gender, culture, circumstances, and fear? Or is there a Voice that trumps all others to give us an indestructible identity and rich, durable kingdom purposes for our lives?

I found a place to belong, people who loved me, and they became the home I'd dreamed about as a girl. And then you came along and taught me how big love could be." "I treated you like you had the plague." Elsa smiled. "For a few years . But before all of that, you...You couldn't stand to be apart. You cried for me at naptime, so you couldn't sleep without me." "I'm sorry," Loreda said. "For---" "No sorries. We fought, we struggles, we hurt each other, so what? That's what love is, I think. It's all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it's durable. It lasts. Never once in all of it --the dust, the drought, the fights with you--never once did I stop loving you or Ant or the farm.

Then I took another sack and started going through all of the papers on my desk, and in the drawers of the desk. I was fairly ruthless and threw out things I'd been keeping for no good reason, stuff that if I died my unfortunate executor would have no hesitation in throwing out either, because what was he going to do with it... what was he going to do with old love letters, pay slips, gas and electric bills, yellowed typescripts of abandoned articles, instruction manuals for consumer durables I no longer possessed, holiday brochures the holidays of which I hadn't gone on... Jesus, it occurred to me -- as I stuffed all of this garbage into a bag -- the shit we leave behind us for other people to sort out.

And then—something tore me so cruelly under my shawl, something so dug into my side, a vulture so strong in beak and talon, I must be alone to grapple with it. I think I never felt jealousy till now. This was not like enduring the endearments of Dr. John and Paulina, against which while I sealed my eyes and my ears, while I withdrew thence my thoughts, my sense of harmony still acknowledged in it a charm. This was an outrage. The love born of beauty was not mine; I had nothing in common with it: I could not dare to meddle with it, but another love, venturing diffidently into life after long acquaintance, furnace-tried by pain, stamped by constancy, consolidated by affection’s pure and durable alloy, submitted by intellect to intellect’s own tests, and finally wrought up, by his own process, to his own unflawed completeness, this Love that laughed at Passion, his fast frenzies and his hot and hurried extinction, in this Love I had a vested interest; and whatever tended either to its culture or its destruction, I could not view impassibly.

Plants Fed On by Fawns" All the flowers: the pleated leaves of the hellebore; And the false blossom of the calla, a leaf like a petal— The white flesh of a woman bathing— a leaf over- Shadowing the small flowers hidden in the spadix; And fly poison, tender little flower, whose cursed root Pounded into a fine white powder will destroy flies. But why kill flies? They do not trouble me. They Are like the fruit the birds feed on. They are like The wind in the trees, or the sap that threads all things, The blue blood moving through branch and vine, Through the wings of dead things and living things.... If I lift my hand? If I write to you? The letters Can be stored in a box. Can they constitute the shape Of a love? Can the paper be ground? Can the box Be altar and garden plot and bed? Can there rise From the bed the form of a two-headed creature, A figure that looks both forward and back, keeping Watch always, one head sleeping while the other wakes, The bird head sleeping while the lion head wakes, And then the changing of the guard?.... No, The flies do not trouble me. They are like the stars At night. Common and beautiful. They are like My thoughts. I stood at midnight in the orchard. There were so many stars, and yet the stars, The very blackness of the night, though perfectly Cold and clear, seemed to me to be insubstantial, The whole veil of things seemed less substantial Than the thing that moved in the dark behind me, An unseen bird or beast, something shifting in its sleep, Half-singing and then forgetting it was singing: Be thou always ravished by love, starlight running Down and pulling back the veil of the heart, And then the water that does not exist opening up Before one, dark as wine, and the unveiled figure Of the self stepping unclothed, sweetly stripped Of its leaf, into starlight and the shadow of night, The cold water warm around the narrow ankles, The body at its most weightless, a thing so durable It will— like the carved stone figures holding up The temple roof— stand and remember its gods Long after those gods have been forsaken.

He thus didn’t find himself outside the limits of his experience; he was high above it. His distaste for himself remained down below; down below he had felt his palms become sweaty with fear and his breath speed up; but here, up high in his poem, he was above his paltriness, the key-hole episode and his cowardice were merely a trampoline above which he was soaring; he was no longer subordinate to his experience, his experience was subordinate to what he had written. The next day he used his grandfather’s typewriter to copy the poem on special paper; and the poem seemed even more beautiful to him than when he had recited it aloud, for the poem had ceased to be a simple succession of words and had become a thing; its autonomy was even more incontestable; ordinary words exist only to perish as soon as they are uttered, their only purpose is to serve the moment of communication; subordinate to things they are merely their designations; whereas here words themselves had become things and were in no way subordinate; they were no longer destined for immediate communication and prompt disappearance, but for durability. What Jaromil had experienced the day before was expressed in the poem, but at the same time the experience slowly died there, as a seed dies in the fruit. “I am underwater and my heartbeats make circles on the surface”; this line represents the adolescent trembling in front of the bathroom door, but at the same time his feature in this line, slowly became blurred, this line surpassed and transcended him. “Ah, my aquatic love”, another line said, and Jaromil knew that aquatic love was Magda, but he also knew that no one could recognise her behind these words; that she was lost, invisible, buried there, the poem he had written was absolutely autonomous, independent and incomprehensible as reality itself, which is no one’s ally and content simply to be; the poem’s autonomy provided Jaromil a splendid refuge, the ideal possibility of a second life; he found that so beautiful that the next day he tried to write more poems; and little by little he gave himself over to this activity.

The men in my mother’s life were like priests, ministering to her. They loved her in a way I hope I am never loved, my father, Sydney Goldsmith, and Dr. Constantine, who looked after her for so many years. It is why I seek the company of the young, the urbane, the polished, the ambitious, the prodigiously gifted, like Nick and his friends. In my mother’s world, at least in those latter days, the men were kind, shy, easily damaged, too sensitive to her hurts. I never want to meet such men again. In a way I prefer them to be impervious to me. I can no longer endure the lost look in the eye, the composure too easily shattered, the waning hope. I now require people to be viable, durable. I try to catch hold of their invulnerability and apply it to myself. I want to feel that the world is hard enough to withstand knocks, as well as to inflict them. I want evidence of good health and good luck and the people who enjoy both. These priestly ministrations, that simple childish cheerfulness, that delicacy of intention, that sigh immediately suppressed, that welcoming of routine attentions, that reliance on old patterns, that fidelity, that constancy, and the terror behind all of these things…No more.

Freud’s (1912/1957b) conclusion regarding men is as follows: “Anyone who is to be really free and happy in love must have surmounted his respect for women and have come to terms with the idea of incest with his mother or sister” (p. 186). It would seem, in other words, that a man must stop putting women on a pedestal, stop seeing them as Madonna-like figures, for in such cases he cannot desire them sexually. The second part of Freud’s sentence would seem to suggest that a man must come to terms with the fact that sexuality with a woman always involves some incestuous component; and incestuous impulses invariably appear in every analysis, assuming it is taken far enough, whether or not there has ever been direct sexual contact between siblings or between parent and child. If we bring together several of Freud’s formulations, then, a man’s love and desire can converge on one and the same woman, perhaps even durably, if and only if (1) his feeling of having been betrayed by his mother has been worked through; (2) he is no longer shocked that he might be inhabited by sexual desire for his mother and sister(s) and has seen through the incest taboo insofar as he realizes there is something incestuous involved in his relations with every woman; and (3) has come to grips with castration, that is, has allowed himself to be separated from his primary source of jouissance as a child without constantly striving to get it back. How any of these, much less all three, could be accomplished without a thoroughgoing analysis is hard to imagine!

My darling son: depression at your age is more common than you might think. I remember it very strongly in Minneapolis, Minnesota, when I was about twenty-six and felt like killing myself. I think the winter, the cold, the lack of sunshine, for us tropical creatures, is a trigger. And to tell you the truth, the idea that you might soon unpack your bags here, having chucked in all your European plans, makes your mother and me as happy as could be. You have more than earned the equivalent of any university 'degree' and you have used your time so well to educate yourself culturally and personally that if university bores you, it is only natural. Whatever you do from here on in, whether you write or don't write, whether you get a degree or not, whether you work for your mother, or at El Mundo, or at La Ines, or teaching at a high school, or giving lectures like Estanislao Zuleta, or as a psychoanalyst to your parents, sisters and relatives, or simply being Hector Abad Faciolince, will be fine. What matters is that you don't stop being what you have been up till now, a person, who simply by virtue of being the way you are, not for what you write or don't write, or for being brilliant or prominent, but just for being the way you are, has earned the affection, the respect, the acceptance, the trust, the love, of the vast majority of those who know you. So we want to keep seeing you in this way, not as a future great author, or journalist or communicator or professor or poet, but as the son, brother, relative, friend, humanist, who understands others and does not aspire to be understood. It does not matter what people think of you, and gaudy decoration doesn't matter, for those of us who know you are. For goodness' sake, dear Quinquin, how can you think 'we support you (...) because 'that boy could go far'? You have already gone very far, further than all our dreams, better than everything we imagined for any of our children. You should know very well that your mother's and my ambitions are not for glory, or for money, or even for happiness, that word that sounds so pretty but is attained so infrequently and for such short intervals (and maybe for that very reason is so valued), for all our children, but that they might at least achieve well-being, that more solid, more durable, more possible, more attainable word. We have often talked of the anguish of Carlos Castro Saavedra, Manuel Meija Vallejo, Rodrigo Arenas Betancourt, and so many quasi-geniuses we know. Or Sabato or Rulfo, or even Garcia Marquez. That does not matter. Remember Goethe: 'All theory (I would add, and all art), dear friend, is grey, but only the golden tree of life springs ever green.' What we want for you is to 'live'. And living means many better things than being famous, gaining qualifications or winning prizes. I think I too had boundless political ambitions when I was young and that's why I wasn't happy. I think I too had boundless political ambitions when I was young and that's why I wasn't happy. Only now, when all that has passed, have I felt really happy. And part of that happiness is Cecilia, you, and all my children and grandchildren. Only the memory of Marta Cecilia tarnishes it. I believe things are that simple, after having gone round and round in circles, complicating them so much. We should do away with this love for things as ethereal as fame, glory, success... Well, my Quinquin, now you know what I think of you and your future. There's no need for you to worry. You are doing just fine and you'll do better, and when you get to my age or your grandfather's age and you can enjoy the scenery around La Ines that I intend to leave to all of you, with the sunshine, heat and lush greenery, and you'll see I was right. Don't stay there longer than you feel you can. If you want to come back I'll welcome you with open arms. And if you regret it and want to go back again, we can buy you another return flight. A kiss from your father.

…Understood that a will is not enough to protect you and your loved ones. …Had a revocable living trust with an incapacity clause. …Transferred ownership of your assets into the trust. …Created a backup will. …Updated the beneficiaries on all your assets. …Understood the safest way to hold title to your home. …Had an advance directive and a durable power of attorney for health care. …Reviewed your critical documents once a year.

rediscover a few key facts about friendships: They take time. They require attention. They need nurturing. Not the friends, necessarily, but the friendships. The quality and durability of any friendship reflects all that is put into it by both parties. Honest conversation. Availability. Sensitivity. Care. Compassion. Remember

I like beautiful things that are durable because I have three kids and three dogs. Life is messy. Really, really, really messy. But I like the mess. I think that’s a southern thing—recognizing that kids and animals are going to come tromping through spaces and it’s important to plan for it.

The Director’s Chair is with Francis Ford Coppola (The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, etc.), and Robert refers later to this quote from Francis: “Failure is not necessarily durable. Remember that the things that they fire you for when you are young are the same things that they give lifetime achievement awards for when you’re old.” ROBERT: “Even if I didn’t sell Mariachi, I would have learned so much by doing that project. That was the idea—I’m there to learn. I’m not there to win; I’m there to learn, because then I’ll win, eventually. . . . “You’ve got to be able to look at your failures and know that there’s a key to success in every failure. If you look through the ashes long enough, you’ll find something. I’ll give you one. Quentin [Tarantino] asked me, ‘Do you want to do one of these short films called Four Rooms [where each director can create the film of their choosing, but it has to be limited to a single hotel room, and include New Year’s Eve and a bellhop]?’ and my hand went up right away, instinctively. . . . “The movie bombed. In the ashes of that failure, I can find at least two keys of success. On the set when I was doing it, I had cast Antonio Banderas as the dad and had this cool little Mexican as his son. They looked really close together. Then I found the best actress I could find, this little half-Asian girl. She was amazing. I needed an Asian mom. I really wanted them to look like a family. It’s New Year’s Eve, because [it] was dictated by the script, so they’re all dressed in tuxedos. I was looking at Antonio and his Asian wife and thinking, ‘Wow, they look like this really cool, international spy couple. What if they were spies, and these two little kids, who can barely tie their shoes, didn’t know they were spies?’ I thought of that on the set of Four Rooms. There are four of those [Spy Kids movies] now and a TV series coming. “So that’s one. The other one was, after [Four Rooms] failed, I thought, ‘I still love short films.’ Anthologies never work. We shouldn’t have had four stories; it should have been three stories because that’s probably three acts, and it should just be the same director instead of different directors because we didn’t know what each person was doing. I’m going to try it again. Why on earth would I try it again, if I knew they didn’t work? Because you figured something out when you’re doing it the first time, and [the second attempt] was Sin City.” TIM: “Amazing.

Ksenia était ma déesse, capricieuse et vindicative, je vivais dans la terreur de ses changements d’humeur et je n’aurais jamais imaginé qu’un sac en crocodile et une suite au Crillon puissent être suffisants pour garantir sa bienveillance. Chaque jour, je déposais à ses pieds les perles que j’extrayais de mes douloureuses élucubrations poétiques, sans voir qu’un bracelet de diamants aurait produit des effets bien plus durables. Il est étrange de constater combien notre cerveau fait d’efforts parfois pour nous cacher la vérité. Nous avons sous les yeux tous les indices et pourtant notre esprit se refuse à assembler les pièces.

Suraj solar and allied industries, Wework galaxy, 43, Residency Road, Bangalore-560025. Mobile number : +91 808 850 7979 Introduction to Solar Rooftop Systems Understanding Solar Energy Importance of Solar Rooftop Systems Harnessing the power of the sun to generate clean and renewable energy has become increasingly essential in today's world. Solar rooftop systems offer a sustainable solution for both residential and commercial properties to reduce reliance on traditional grid electricity and lower carbon emissions. By understanding the fundamentals of solar energy and recognizing the significance of solar rooftop installations, individuals and businesses in Bangalore can pave the way towards a more environmentally conscious and cost-effective energy future. # Solar Rooftop in Bangalore - Sunease Solar ## Introduction to Solar Rooftop Systems ### Understanding Solar Energy Solar energy is like the coolest kid on the block when it comes to renewable energy sources. It's basically sunlight transformed into electricity, which is pretty neat if you ask me. ### Importance of Solar Rooftop Systems Solar rooftop systems are like the superheroes of the energy world - they harness the power of the sun right from your rooftop. They not only help you save money but also reduce your carbon footprint. Win-win! ## Benefits of Solar Rooftop Installations ### Financial Savings Imagine cutting down on those hefty electricity bills - that's what solar rooftop installations do. They help you save money in the long run while also increasing the value of your property . It resembles having your cake and eating it as well! ### Environmental Impact By switching to solar energy, you're basically giving Mother Earth a virtual high-five. Solar rooftop installations reduce greenhouse gas emissions and help combat climate change. So, you're not just saving money, you're saving the planet. NBD. ### Energy Independence Who doesn't want to be a little more independent, am I right? Solar Rooftop in Bangaloreprovide you with a sense of self-sufficiency when it comes to energy. You're not at the mercy of fluctuating electricity prices anymore. It's like taking control of your energy destiny. ## Solar Rooftop Initiatives in Bangalore ### Government Policies and Incentives Bangalore is all about that solar love. The government has rolled out various policies and incentives to promote solar rooftop installations. It resembles they're saying, "Here's something special to do your change to sun oriented considerably better." ### Community Programs and Awareness Communities in Bangalore are coming together to spread the good word about solar energy. From awareness campaigns to collective installations, they're making sure everyone knows that solar is the way to go. It's like a solar revolution, but with a cool community twist. ## Sunease Solar: A Leader in Solar Rooftop Solutions ### Company Overview Sunease Solar is basically the Gandalf of solar rooftop solutions - wise, reliable, and always there when you need them. They're experts in the field, making the switch to solar as easy as pie (solar-powered pie, of course). ### Product Offerings From sleek solar panels to cutting-edge inverters, Sunease Solar has it all. They offer top-notch products that are not only efficient but also look pretty darn good on your rooftop. It's like having the Ferraris of solar installations. ### Customer Success Stories Customers love Sunease Solar, and for good reason. Their success stories speak volumes about the quality of service and satisfaction they provide. It's like a feel-good movie, but with solar panels instead of actors. 5. Key Features of Solar Rooftop Systems Panel Efficiency and Durability When it comes to Solar Rooftop in Bangalore, panel efficiency and durability are key factors to consider.

True marriage begins well before the wedding day,” the officiant began. “And the efforts of marriage continue well beyond the ceremony’s end. A brief moment in time and the stroke of the pen are all that is needed to create the legal bond of marriage, but it takes a lifetime of love, commitment, forgiveness, and compromise to make marriage durable and everlasting.

all that we know theologically must be “accessed” by our heart with all the joy, peace, self-control, love, durability, patience, and graciousness that it should produce in a human being.

Lead Us Not into Temptation” With this petition Augustine makes an important distinction. He says, “The prayer is not that we should not be tempted, but that we should not be brought [or led] into temptation.”212 Temptation in the sense of being tried and tested is not only inevitable but desirable. The Bible talks of suffering and difficulty as a furnace in which many impurities of soul are “burned off” and we come to greater self-knowledge, humility, durability, faith, and love. However, to “enter into temptation,” as Jesus termed it (Matt 26:41), is to entertain and consider the prospect of giving in to sin. Calvin lists two categories of temptations from the “right” and from the “left.” From the right comes “riches, power, and honors,” which tempt us into the sin of thinking we do not need God. From the left comes “poverty, disgrace, contempt, and afflictions,” which tempt us to despair, to lose all hope, and to become angrily estranged from God.213 Both prosperity and adversity, then, are sore tests, and each one brings its own set of enticements away from trusting in God and toward centering your life on yourself and on “inordinate desires” for other things.

functioned—I realized that first impressions about hotel rooms are like first loves: neither is based on the concept of how, over time, one can come to appreciate the pleasures of durability over infatuation.

New Approach Needed Should you revisit us, Stay a little longer, And get to know the place. Experience hunger, Madness, disease and war. You heard about them, true, The last time you came here; It's different having them. And what about a go At love, marriage, children? All good, bur bringing some Risk of remorse and pain And fear of an odd sort: A sort one should, again, Feel, not just hear about, To be qualified as A human-race expert. On local life, we trust The resident witness, Not the royal tourist. People have suffered worse And more durable wrongs Than you did on that cross (I know - you won't get me Up on one of those things), Without sure prospect of Ascending good as new On the third day, without 'I die, but man shall live' As a nice cheering thought. So, next time, come off it, And get some service in, Jack, long before you start Laying down the old law: If you still want to then. Tell your dad that from me.

Your brokenness will strengthen you. Every fiber of you! It doesn’t seem so, especially in the currents of being ripped apart, but in the mending, we are made more durable, stronger.

Today, we have a revolutionary new perspective on romantic love, one that is optimistic and practical. Grounded in science, it reveals that love is vital to our existence. And far from being unfathomable, love is exquisitely logical and understandable. What’s more, it is adaptive and functional. Even better, it is malleable, repairable, and durable. In short, we now comprehend, finally and irrefutably, that love makes “sense.” The word derives from the Latin sentire, meaning “to perceive, feel, or know,” and also “to find one’s way.” And that is why I have called this book Love Sense. I intend for it to help you find your way to more fulfilling and lasting love.

Biblical teaching called for cohesive families whose happiness was based on the bonding of one female and one male in a durable relationship of covenant fidelity in love, committed to protect the life and well-being of their offspring. Fatherless children were the strongest argument against hedonic sexual experimentation.

His themes were not pride and love at all, though he used the words perpetually; as he used them they meant self-praise and hate. He talked a great deal about Truth also, for he was, he said, “cutting down beneath the veneer of civilization.” It is a durable, ubiquitous, specious metaphor, that one about veneer (or paint, or pliofilm, or whatever) hiding the nobler reality beneath. It can conceal a dozen fallacies at once. One of the most dangerous is the implication that civilization, being artificial, is unnatural: that it is the opposite of primitiveness… Of course there is no veneer, the process is one of growth, and primitiveness and civilization are degrees of the same thing. If civilization has an opposite, it is war. Of those two things, you have either one, or the other. Not both.

THE LIVING SKIN Summarising, it should be clear by now that the skin is anything but a mere expanse of leather covering the living body. It is itself a living organ of complex function and extraordinary activity. It has to combine many conflicting characteristics: mechanical strength with pliability and elasticity; durability to wear with a high degree of sensitivity; permeability to wastes being driven from the body and impermeability to poisons or micro-organisms seeking entry; regulation of the body's temperature while itself suffering extremes; absorption of beneficial forms of light and automatic adaptation to excessive amounts. In all these activities, it works best when kept busy, being subjected to all manner of variation and handling difficult situations. It is weakened by pampering, deadened by kindness and poisoned by attempts to “feed” it from without. It likes to meet the elements, in as natural and wholesale a form as possible, but welcomes them even in little civilised packets. When it throws waste out, it prefers to be done with it as completely and promptly as possible; it hates to be kept in a sour, greasy, stale atmosphere, held against it by close- fitting, non- porous clothing. It loves to have its surface scraped, scratched and 24

Welcome to my sincere friendship. Sign in, it’s free. My password is Love, Respect, and Civility.” “I do not search for true friends and true love; I practice becoming a true friend and giving true love.” “In the friends list of social media envious, selfish, spies, rivals, and idea thieves are more than one’s actual and sincere friends.” “Your behavior can make friends and as well as opponents and enemies too. It depends on you.” “I neither trust nor consider true that friends who had played the role of fake figures remained, telling lies and demonstrating zigzag style even though I am a very simple and harmless person. However, one shouldn’t forget that my birth star is Scorpio; I can be poisonous to those who may try to jump beyond the limits.” “Naturally, I stay an excellent friend of mine than whoever else since I feel the joy of fame with notability, no matter whatever levels and ranges; it needs, not a certificate.” “Such a friendship and relationship stay durable and stable if they hold love and sincerity; conversely, if that motivates the motive and insincerity, results in nothing more than failure.” “A friend or relative who can’t spare a little time for you is not a real and sincere one.” “A true friend holds nothing more than helping into all the dimensions with probity.

We are all mortal, with a given duration--never longer or shorter. Some die as soon as they die, while others live on for a time in the memory of those who knew and loved them; others survive in the memory of the nation that bore them; still others enter into the memory of the civilization they were part of; and some very few are able to span the contrary tendencies of differing civilizations. But all of us are surrounded by the abyss of time, in which we will ultimately vanish; the hunger of the abyss will swallow us all..... Durability is just a wish, and eternity an illusion.

Trauma not only resists meaning, but it interrupts and damages the very means for meaning-making by inducing this aphasic self whose linguistic horizons have been significantly compromised. Consequently, I not only may be unable to put the event into words but may lack the means to even recognize what happened to me. In this manner, trauma dissimulates itself through its diminishing effects. The extermination camp survivor exemplifies such effects. Here is a case in which trauma induces a “saturated phenomenon of suffering.” Such an event is “so intense, so durable, and so all-encompassing” that this suffering becomes “a world unto itself.” In this sense, trauma can be said to deliver a new world. However, it is not an expansive one, opening us to a broader terrain. Instead, it forecloses upon “the shared world,” creating an “abyss” between my prior world and the one now inhabited. Concurrently, there is a “denegation of the carnal” and receding “from the public space.” This phenomenon remains thoroughly and invariantly “unsayable.” Others, in turn, may exacerbate this departure from my previous world by being unable or unwilling to bear my broken discourse. My trauma leads others to turn away in horror as I become their abject. As such, trauma moves in a counter-direction from the shared event and, principally, the erotic phenomenon. There is no futurition, no compossibles, no co-naissance—only a receding of the future as possibility fades in a diminishing hope that ultimately leads me to the indifference I thought I could evade through the possibility of love. Trauma begins in terror but ends in apathy.

The environmentalist Bill McKibben, author of Deep Economy: The Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future, has found that as a person’s floor space increases, the number of close friends he or she can depend on decreases.

me.” “I’m sorry,” Loreda said. “For—” “No sorries. We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That’s what love is, I think. It’s all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it’s durable. It lasts.

It’s the problem and it’s the solution, this durable nature of love,

How many temptations exist because we believe that in all our doing we are actually alone? God is with you. And by God I mean the Creator of heaven and earth. The Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. The supreme One. The King of glory. The Judge of all the earth. The immutable and transcendent God. The Lord of hosts. If that God is with us, we should be the most confident people on the planet. Do you understand the kind of confidence you’d have in your ministry if you believed this? It’s the kind of confidence that would produce power. The power needed for an effective and durable ministry that obeys all the components of the Great Commission. We often pray for the power to do in ministry forgetting that we also need the power to last. It takes as much power to tell the truth in love as it does to endure suffering for it. Faith in the nearness of God creates the resilience needed to keep leading, loving, giving, evangelizing, serving, praying for, and preaching to.

Though later I'd decide this was noncommittal, evasive, at the time it struck me as generous, a swelling in my chest, another unfamiliar feeling -- assurance, or security, or trust. we were in this together, we'd figure it out, and that made our love seem durable.

For reasons understood well by evolutionary psychologists, humans form durable emotional attachments (love) to family members and friends. On the death or loss of love objects, grief is a natural emotional result.

She is not yet fifty and hopes she might yet find a companion who will look at her with desire, for there is no feeling in the world so fulfilling, as there is none so discouraging as the absence of it. Love is another matter; more important, more durable, but so terrible in its loss that on the whole she thinks it best avoided altogether.

The faithful living out of the tropos of the incarnate Christ is the challenge that faces us in all these areas, and what it entails (so Bonhoeffer and Przywara alike insist) is the patient embrace of finitude, the refusal of defensive anxiety about the Church’s privilege or influence, the recognition and valuing of the unspectacular, in life and art, as the site where we may expect the paradoxical radiance of the infinite to become visible. Christian ethics is not about dramatic and solitary choices for individual good or evil but the steady building of a culture of durable mutuality and compassion. Christian aesthetics is not about genius-driven or near-magical transmutations of this world into some imagined semblance of divine glory and abundance, but the gift of unlocking in the most ordinary setting or object the ‘grace of sense’ that allows it to be seen with (to use the word again) durable, attentive love. And Christian metaphysics? Przywara’s work clearly understands the role of Christology in developing a schematic and consistent view of analogy, depending on the recognition that whatever comes into intellectual focus in our human understanding is always already implicated in relations that make its life more than a single and containable phenomenon but something opening out on to an unlimited horizon of connection... ...authentic theology shows itself, in self-forgetting and self-dispossessing practice. The theology that we write and discuss has no substance independently of this formal content, this knowledge of how to ‘enact Christ’ in the world. And it is because of this that Przywara resists a reading of St John of the Cross’s spiritual teaching which simply identifies the ‘night of spirit’ with the negation of the creaturely. Put like this, it can suggest yet another form of the competitive ontological model which we struggle to escape from – more world, less God, and vice versa. But St John properly read – giving priority to the poems rather than the commentaries on them – characterizes the night as participation in the act of Christ the Word. The darkness of our prayer is not the result of a straightforward gap between what we can know as creatures and the unknowable depths of God, the infinite dissimilarity between finite and infinite; it is our assimilation into the infinite’s self-unveiling in the dark places of the finite world, in the wordless helplessness of the cross. And because it is in this way an entry deeper and deeper into the centre of God’s activity, it is a journey into the ‘excess’ of divine light, the overflowing of God’s absolute abundance, which is itself nothing else than agape directed towards the life and joy of the other – in the divine life and in the relation of divine to non-divine life.

It was true that love had never done her much good. It had brought her very little happiness. A few weeks of courtship and two days of marriage did not provide enough happiness for a lifetime. There had been years of pain and emptiness. Perhaps a marriage based on affection and respect would prove more durable. Perhaps there would not be the peak of delirious joy that she had known with Robert. But there would not be the depths of despair, either.

First, collaboration is built on relationships, and product teams—especially co‐located teams—are designed to nurture these relationships. Second, to innovate you need expertise, and the durable nature of product teams lets people go deep enough to gain that expertise. Third, instead of just building what others determine might be valuable, in the product team model the full team understands—needs to understand—the business objectives and context. And most important, the full team feels ownership and responsibility for the outcome.

8 1 Doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice? 2 She standeth in the top of high places, by the way in the places of the paths. 3 She crieth at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the coming in at the doors. 4 Unto you, O men, I call; and my voice is to the sons of man. 5 O ye simple, understand wisdom: and, ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart. 6 Hear; for I will speak of excellent things; and the opening of my lips shall be right things. 7 For my mouth shall speak truth; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips. 8 All the words of my mouth are in righteousness; there is nothing froward or perverse in them. 9 They are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge. 10 Receive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. 11 For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it. 12 I wisdom dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witty inventions. 13 The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate. 14 Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom: I am understanding; I have strength. 15 By me kings reign, and princes decree justice. 16 By me princes rule, and nobles, even all the judges of the earth. 17 I love them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me. 18 Riches and honour are with me; yea, durable riches and righteousness. 19 My fruit is better than gold, yea, than fine gold; and my revenue than choice silver. 20 I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment: 21 That I may cause those that love me to inherit substance; and I will fill their treasures. 22 The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. 23 I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. 24 When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water. 25 Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: 26 While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world. 27 When he prepared the heavens, I was there: when he set a compass upon the face of the depth: 28 When he established the clouds above: when he strengthened the fountains of the deep: 29 When he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: when he appointed the foundations of the earth: 30 Then I was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him; 31 Rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth; and my delights were with the sons of men. 32 Now therefore hearken unto me, O ye children: for blessed are they that keep my ways. 33 Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not. 34 Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors. 35 For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord. 36 But he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul: all they that hate me love death.

Such friendship and relationship, stay durable and stable if that holds love and sincerity; conversely, if that motivates the motive and insincerity, results in nothing than failure.

Oh, for Christians and pas tors whose might in the truth is matched by their meekness. Whose theological acumen is matched by their manifest contrition. Whose heights of intellect are matched by their depths of humility. Yes, and the other way around!—whose relational warmth is matched by their rigor of study, whose bent toward mercy is matched by the vigilance of their biblical discernment, and whose sense of humor is exceeded by the seriousness of their calling. I dream of durable, never-say-die defenders of true doctrine who are mainly known for the delight they have in God and the joy in God that they bring to the people of God—who enter controversy when necessary, not because they love ideas and arguments, but because they love Christ and the church.

Addison,” Taylor said quietly. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Corbin really cares for you?” “What? Don’t be silly.” I frowned. “I’m just a conquest to him—it’s a feather in his cap to be able to say that a non-glam Auditor is his consort. It’s like… like a mobster showing off his girlfriend who also just happens to be a cop or a judge.” “Maybe not.” Taylor looked thoughtful. “I’ve heard rumors about Corbin.” “Such as?” I raised an eyebrow and made a go on signal with one hand. “Well, he’s not nearly the playboy he makes himself out to be for one thing,” Taylor said. “He’s almost never with anyone—he mostly keeps to himself except to feed occasionally. And he never pays the Crimson Debt or lets anyone else pay it for him.” “Meaning he doesn’t feed on anyone during sex or let them feed on him?” I said. She nodded. “Honestly, I don’t think he has that much sex at all. Not even glam-sex.” “Oh come on, Taylor—he’s a vampire,” I objected. “Sex and blood, that’s what they’re all about—that’s what they do.” “Most of them maybe. But if what I’ve heard is right, Corbin mostly keeps to himself.” “But why?” I asked, frowning. “I mean, it’s not for lack of willing partners, I’m sure.” He got under my skin like a bad rash but there was no denying Corbin was gorgeous. “I don’t know why, exactly.” Taylor shrugged. “They say he had someone once—a human—but he lost her. Now he mostly keeps to himself out of respect for her memory.” I thought of what he’d told me, about having a human female he loved enough to be gentle with once and how she’d “died anyway.” “Why didn’t he just bond her to him?” I asked. Vamps can bond any human they want, which greatly increases the human’s lifespan, sometimes even enough to match the vamp’s. It makes them a little more durable too, though under the law they’re still not supposed to have sex with the vamp that bonds them. “I don’t know.” Taylor shook her head. “But I do know you’re pretty much the only girl he’s shown an interest in. I mean, he does a lot of casual flirting, you know?” “Yeah, I know.” I nodded. Nobody was better at eye-fucking than Corbin. “But none of it amounts to anything. I mean, I’ve never heard of him taking anyone into one of his daylight resting places the way he took you. Not vampire, not human—no one,” Taylor emphasized.

Pie is this durable thing that you can share with people. It's kind of homey and rustic and nostalgic without being some fancy, decorated confectionary.

Life is short; love is long. - The Barrelmaker Brimful of Love