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The Love of Being Loving

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Donna Goddard

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“Bella. "Nathan Malone is dead." He caught her shoulders, shook her. "No!" she screamed back. And she couldn't hit him. She wanted to, and she couldn't. "look at me," he yelled. "Look at me, Bella. What happened killed the man you loved. All that is left is this. The man you see now.The name name I carry now. Anything else is no possible." "No!" She pulled away from him, stumbled to her feet, and shook with the rage pounding through her. "The name may be dead, but you are not dead. "You weren't just a SEAL," she cried. "You weren't just a friend, or a son, or a grandson, or a brother. You weren't just a warrior." She clenched her fists, pressed to her stomach as the agony swell up through every cell of her body. "You are my husband. My lover. It doesn't matter if your name is Nathan, Noah, or hey fucking you, you are my my lover. My soul. My heart.”

“St. Augustine hated the Stoics, Dostoevsky hated the Russian Liberals. At first sight this seems a quite inexplicable peculiarity. Both were convinced Christians, both spoke so much of love, and suddenly - such hate! And against whom? Against the Stoics, who preached self-abnegation, who esteemed virtue above all things in the world, and against the Liberals who also exalted virtue above all things! But the fact remains: Dostoevsky spoke in rage of Stassyulevitch and Gradovsky; Augustine could not be calm when he spoke the names of those pre-Stoic Stoics, Regulus and Mutius Scaevola, and even Socrates, the idol of the ancient world, appeared to him a bogey. Obviously Augustine and Dostoevsky were terrified and appalled by the mere thought of the possibility of such men as Scaevola and Gradovsky - men capable of loving virtue for its own sake, of seeing virtue as an end in itself. Dostoevsky says openly in the Diary of a Writer that the only idea capable of inspiring a man is that of the immortality of the soul.”

“But being the mirrors for each other's souls has a cost: by the time they part from each other, the individuals in the mating pair have become indistinguishable. Before their merger, they each yearned for the other; as they part, they part from the self. The very quality that attracted them to each other is also, inevitably, destroyed in their union.”

“Существует забавная старинная теория, что у человека могут быть две души - одна внешняя, которая служит ему постоянно, и другая внутренняя, которая пробуждается изредка, но, проснувшись, живет интенсивно и ярко. Подчиняясь первой, человек бреется, голосует, платит налоги, содержит семью, покупает в рассрочку мебель и вообще ведет себя нормально. Но стоит внутренней душе взять верх, и в один миг тот же человек начинает изливать на свою спутницу жизни поток яростного отвращения; не успеете вы оглянуться, как он изменяет свои политические взгляды, наносит смертельное оскорбление своему лучшему другу, удаляется в монастырь или дансинг, исчезает, вешается, или - пишет стихи и песни, или целует жену, когда она его о том не просила, или отдает все свои сбережения на борьбу с каким-нибудь микробом. Потом внешняя душа возвращается, и перед вами снова наш уравновешенный, спокойный гражданин. То, что было, это всего лишь бунт Индивидуума против Порядка; надо было перетряхнуть атомы человека, чтобы дать им снова осесть на положенных местах".”