Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

Saturday, September 15, 2012


Teddy Roosevelt’s diary entry from the day his wife died. He never spoke of her death again.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Nice Guys Finish Last

She says "I'm not good enough for you." I say I care about her. She say's I'm too perfect for her and she doesn't want to fall in love. I say "It was the flower wasn't it... too much." She says "No! it was amazing..."

I say "Exactly."

Girls don't want the nice guy. They want the guy who is willing to cheat if the opportunity arises, who would get mad and lash out, or who will neglect them emotionally. All I want is someone to fall in love with really.

Now, I'm alone for almost 3 weeks and already I don't know what I'm going to do.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

An Old Poem

By the pain I see in others
I shall learn, and I shall grow
and with the strength I hold in my arms
I will never let you go.

I will learn to love you truly
I will keep you in my mind,
and if ever you are lost
then you'll in me an answer find.

You may hurt me, you may leave me,
but when you are feeling pain,
you can simply fall back into me,
I'd love you just the same.

By the pain I see in others
I'll be born again anew,
and by the love I feel in this heart
I'll be born again in you.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

First Love - Ivan Turgenev




Ivan turgenev's novel 'First Love' is the story of 16 year old Vladimir's infatuation with the beautiful and bewitching Zinaida, told in retrospect by his older self.

Something which really impressed me about this novella was the way in which it has lost none of its relevance and accessibility. Althought it was written in the 18 hundreds it could have easily been from the 21st century. This combined with the fact that Turgenev was one of the great masters of Russian prose means that the powerful and devestating emotions are conveyed in such a way that i could honestly relate in a powerful and drawing way to the experiences and feelings which he expresses.

Turgenev writes in a succinct and straightforward way the majority of the time, which grants this text its clear and open quality. However this style is tempered by his insightful and detailed descriptions of the world around him and the way he is rocked by his emotions. It is these descriptions which seem to make his words linger in the air as if time is stopping between the passing seconds.

In 'True Love' the depth is in the detail.