My paltry commentary: To have this love for oneself will lead you to great depths of truth. To seek this love externally is to hold empty hands in longing. There is no other way to be love. There are no actual words for love. It is a verb, not a noun
A real nobility of passion lends wings and that is why the best test for gauging the sublimity of a love would be to note how decisively it develops in the direction of a greater freedom of spirit. The more spiritual the affection, the less it sucks up into itself and the stronger its impulse towards action.
With a fullness no man has conceived you realized, through your reincarnation, love’s threefold dream: to be so enveloped in the object of love as to be absorbed in it endlessly to intensify its presence and, without ever knowing surfeit, to be lost in it.
To adore . . . that means to lose oneself in the unfathomable, to plunge into the inexhaustible, to find peace in the incorruptible, to be absorbed in defined immensity, to offer oneself to the fire and the transparency, to annihilate oneself in proportion as one becomes more…
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