Jeanette Winterson was kindly asked to define love. Here are her impressions:
St. John of the Cross: “In the
evening of life, we shall be judged on love alone.”
W. H. Auden: “Let no
one say I Love until aware / What huge resources it will take to nurse /
One ruining speck, one tiny hair / That casts a shadow through the
universe.”
Freud: “Men are not gentle creatures who want to be loved.”
From 19th-century novels, that love and money are fatally bartered as
interchangeable currencies.
From poetry, that love is a language that
has to be learned.
From the Bible, that love is as strong as death.
From
my novel “Written on the Body”: “Why is the measure of love loss?”
But
20 years later I discovered that love could be as reliable as the sun.
And that there is one other thing in a world infatuated by wealth. Love
never counts the cost.
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