Love Kills Us All

“Try a little harder to be a little better.”

“The soul is made of love, and must ever strive to return to love. It can never find rest nor happiness in other things. It must lose itself in love.”

“Last night I dreamed—blessed illusion— that I had a beehive here in my heart and that the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.”

No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now. Time hypnotizes. When you're nine, you think you've always been nine years old and will always be. When you're thirty, it seems you've always been balanced there on that bright rim of middle life. And then when you turn seventy, you are always and forever seventy. You're in the present, you're trapped in a young now or an old now, but there is no other now to be seen.