Some quotes and excerpts from Essays in Love by Alain de Botton, a wonderful and engaging book that I would recommend for all those who wish to gain a more honest philosophical perspective on love.
* Most people would throw away all their cynicism if
they could. The majority just never get the chance.
* Unrequited love may be painful, but it is safely painful,
because it does not involve inflicting damage on anyone but oneself, a private
pain that is as bitter-sweet as it is self-induced. But as soon as love is
reciprocated, one must be prepared to give up the passivity of simply being hurt to take on the responsibility
of perpetrating hurt oneself.
* Perhaps the easiest people to fall in love with are those
about whom we know nothing.
* I did not love Chloe for
her body, I loved her body for the promise of who she was. It was a most
inspiring promise.
* Lovers cannot remain philosophers for long, they should
give way to the religious impulse, which is to believe and have faith, as
opposed to the philosophical impulse, which is to doubt and enquire. They should
prefer the risk of being wrong and in
love to being in doubt and without
love.
* The unknown carries with it a mirror of all our deepest,
most inexpressible wishes. The unknown is the fatal proposition that a face
seen across the room will always hold out to the known. I may have loved Chloe
but because I knew Chloe, I did not long for her. Longing cannot
indefinitely direct itself at those we know, for their qualities are charted
and therefore lack the mystery longing demands.
* Why don't you love me? is as impossible
a question (though a far less pleasant one) to ask as Why do you love me? In
both cases, we come up against our lack of conscious control in the amorous
structure, the fact that love has been brought to us as a gift for reasons we
never wholly determine or deserve. To ask such questions, we are forced to veer
on one side towards complete arrogance, on the other to complete humility: What have I done to deserve love? asks
the humble lover; I can have done nothing. What
have I done to be denied love? protests the betrayed one, arrogantly claiming
possession of a gift that is never one's due. To both questions, the one who
hands out love can only reply: Because
you are you – an answer that leaves the beloved dangerously and
unpredictably strung between grandiosity and depression.
* ... there is a great difference between identifying a problem
and solving it, between wisdom and the wise life. We are all more intelligent
than we are capable, and awareness of the insanity of love has never saved
anyone from the disease.
(hat-tip: Sabahat, for directing me to this book)





