Barbara Frederickson 551 words, 78K views, 19 comments
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On Jun 18, 2013Thierry wrote :
I remember a time when I was 'in love' with the works of the great writer and poet D.H. Lawrence, a time when I felt devastated at the sight of a wildly beautiful girl, because this was what in loveness actually was for me: devastating! And, apparently also, in some way, for the author of The Girl And The Gipsy. And what remains of this great fire today is but gratitude for the man who taught me the love of the English language. No nostalgia whatsoever. And I see human in-loveness now as only the inspirer of good, great litterature, if one has the talent, or as a passion to be transmuted into something less fleeting, more encompassing yet no less vital. I must say I am impressed by some of the comments I just read. Because this transmutation is far from easy and something of the vitality inherent with the state of in loveness may be lost in the process. Whether transmuted into art, or in the wondrous kind of love of a Jesus or the limitless compassion of a Buddha. The author seems right to say that these moments are moments when we reconnect with something vital which is always in danger of being forsaken.