When you love someone you do not love them, all the time, in the exact same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships.
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For sleep, one needs endless depths of blackness to sink into; daylight is too shallow, it will not cover one.
I believe that what woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly.