I love him who laboureth and inventeth, that he may build the house for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant: for thus seeketh he his own down-going.
He shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
He's not perfect. You aren't either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can.
Ian MacKaye was in London while I was living there. We both decided that even though we had very different lifestyles, we had the same mentality - politically, and in a lot of other different ways. His statement was, "We're going to the same place, except you're taking a taxi, and I'm driving my own car." That's me and Ian MacKaye's relationship. I love him, he's great.
When I love somebody, I like him to be around; I like him to take me out to dinner; I like to look at the sunset with him. But if not, I love him and I hope he's looking at the same sun I am. Loving someone liberates the lover as well as the beloved. And that kind of love comes with age. Some of this wisdom came to me after I was 50 or 60.
I love him for his sake;
And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him
That they take place when virtue's steely bones
Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
I understand that my son loves me and I love him, and everything just really got blown out of proportion, and I'm OK with that. I'm still here. My son is around me all the time. At the end of the day he still loves me and I love him, so it is what it is.