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"To love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be destroyed."
--
Jace to Clary, pg. 206

 

Cassandra Clare

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Maybe that's the reason," Adam said slowly, feeling his way. "Maybe if I had loved him I would have been jealous of him. You were. Maybe-maybe love makes you suspicious and doubting. Is it true that when you love a woman you are never sure-never sure of her because you aren't sure of yourself? I can see it pretty clearly. I can see how you loved him and what it did to you. I did not love him. Maybe he loved me. He tested me and hurt me and punished me and finally he sent me out like a sacrifice, maybe to make up for something. But he did not love you, and so he had faith in you. Maybe — why, maybe it's a kind of reverse.

 

John Steinbeck

 

Adam and Evelyne was a charming light comdedy in which Jean started off as a teenager who goes away to finishing school in Switzerland and returns a sophisticated young woman [-] It was quite extraordinary playing love scenes with someone you loved and who was in love with you. [-] She enjoyed it thoroughly and when, in the film, I was telling her how much I loved her but that I was afraid I was too old for her, she'd mutter under her breath, "You're telling me, you dirty old man." Later, when she had to tell me she loved me, she'd whisper "and I mean it, too."

 

Jean Simmons

 

"I used to think being a good warrior meant not caring. About anything, myself especially. I took every risk i could. I flung myself in the path of demons. I think I gave Alec a complex about what kind of fighter he was, just because he wanted to live. I alway thought love made you stupid. Made you weak. A bad shadowhunter. To love is to destroy. I believed that. And then I met you. You were a mundane. Weak. Not a fighter. Never trained. And then I saw how much you loved your mother, loved Simon, and how you'd walk into hell to save them.------ Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger than anyone I'd ever met. And I realized I was the one who was weak."

 

Cassandra Clare

 

You know, actually we have no love — that is a terrible thing to realize. Actually we have no love; we have sentiment; we have emotionality, sensuality, sexuality; we have remembrances of something which we have thought as love. But actually, brutally, we have no love. Because to have love means no violence, no fear, no competition, no ambition. If you had love you will never say, "This is my family." You may have a family and give them the best you can; but it will not be "your family" which is opposed to the world. If you love, if there is love, there is peace. If you loved, you would educate your child not to be a nationalist, not to have only a technical job and look after his own petty little affairs; you would have no nationality. There would be no divisions of religion, if you loved. But as these things actually exist — not theoretically, but brutally — in this ugly world, it shows that you have no love. Even the love of a mother for her child is not love. If the mother really loved her child, do you think the world would be like this? She would see that he had the right food, the right education, that he was sensitive, that he appreciated beauty, that he was not ambitious, greedy, envious. So the mother, however much she may think she loves her child, does not love the child. So we have not that love.

 

Jiddu Krishnamurti

 

"Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them to the end." Often had they been faithless; and now, while addressing them, He knows that they will all in a few hours forsake Him. Yet He trusts them; He commits His cause to their keeping. And we must love as He loved.

 

Richard (minister) Fuller