Tears collected in my eyes as I walked up the hill. I wasn’t crying for my mother -or myself- or even that poor homeless man. I was crying for all of us. There’s so much pain everywhere, and we just close our eyes to it.
He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.
-Sigmund Freud
“About love. About how we often mistake love for fireworks - for drama and dysfunction. But real love is very quiet, very still. It’s boring, if seem from the perspective of high drama. Love is deep and calm - and constant.
Choosing a lover is a lot like choosing a therapist. We need to ask ourselves, is this someone who will be honest with me, listen to criticism, admit making mistakes, and not promise the impossible?