There are no greater fools in the world than those who believe in love. And none are more to be pitied than those who pass their life in its pursuit. Man as such is bewitched by the madness of the poets and confused by the very things he feels from within himself. Helplessly lured away from reality by some inner longing, they say: can anything be more senseless than to believe in something in which the senses themselves cannot sense?
The epitome of senselessness, I say! Are there no more nobler or admirable tasks to which man can apply himself? Woe to any man who yields to his delusions! Only wayward wanderings shall he find. In the end, he shall only find his despairing self, emptied of all its fiery zeal and hope. Yes, such is the end of such passionate pursuits with desire only to be slain by its own sword.
In Defense of Love
How shallow we have all become! Like ever-shrinking puddles after the rain. The less we knew of love the more our depth was lost, till now one sees readily the bottom from the surface. Still man achieves great things, he finds cures and walks in space; yet, he no longer inspires because everyone knows that there is nothing new under the sun. Fortunately, they are wrong. Love is new. Love is ever-new and ever-fresh. It was love that first pressed its lips to ours and by its breath we were brought to life, not merely to live but to be alive. It was love that made each man a bottomless well and burst his horizons asunder. Man ran to and fro like a frenzied romantic scattering his message with boundless energy. All things were possible when man knew love! Come once again, O Love! Lest these puddles disappear; make us into wells once more! Come and tend to us; for, we are like the living dead for we live but are not alive! Come breathe into us once more that we may know Love and forever live for you.