“there have been times when i think we do not desire heaven but more often i find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else. you may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. you know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you’ve been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw – but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realize that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you were transported. even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of – something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cutwood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat’s side? are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? you have never had it. all the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it – tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. but if it should really become manifest – if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself – you would know it. beyond all possibility of doubt you would say ‘here at last is the thing i was made for.’ we cannot tell each other about it. it is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. while we are, this is. if we lose this, we lose all.”—c. s. lewis, the problem of pain, 1940 (via movelightly)
“She thought it was part of the hardship of her life that there was laid upon her the burden of larger wants than others seemed to feel – that she had to endure this wide hopeless yearning for that something, whatever it was, that was greatest and best on this earth.”— — George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
“The three Councilors who voted against funding for Planned Parenthood said they did so because some of its clinics provide abortions, even though those abortions are entirely privately funded. Councilor Raymond Wieczorek of Manchester added that he opposed funding for birth control and condoms altogether.
I literally want to drive down to Manchester and punch this man in the nuts. But at least he’s being honest: he thinks unwanted children and STDs are a just PUNISHMENT for enjoying your sexuality and not being a chaste angel. Newsflash, Raymond: the STATE will be paying for those unwanted children when women can’t afford their birth control - until you deny them benefits and healthcare and they DIE at an early age from a preventable illness or accident. SO MUCH RAGE I CAN’T EVEN. Live free or die, my ass.