Like Many Men, I Am Not Ashamed

Beauty Is Precious, You See, And The More Beautiful Something Is, The More Precious It Is; And The More Precious It Is The More It Hurts Us That It Will Fade Away; And The More We Are Hurt By Beauty, The More We Love The World.

Love Is A Kind Of Dementia With Very Precise And Oft-repeated Clinical Symptoms.

Man Is A Bird Without Wings And A Bird Is A Man Without Sorrow.

Love Is Not Breathlessness; It Is Not Excitement; It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being “in Love”, Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.

Like Many Men, I Am Not Ashamed To Admit That My Principal Joys Are Domestic. I Love Cooking, And I Love Looking After My Children. Indeed, The Times That I Have With Them Are The Only Ones When I Feel Unconditionally Happy.