“When one is alone, imperfection must be endured every minute of the day; a couple, however, does not have to put up with it. Aren鈥檛 our eyes made to be torn out, and our hearts for the same purpose? At the same time it鈥檚 really not that bad; that鈥檚 an exaggeration and a lie, everything is exaggeration, the only truth is longing. But even the truth of longing is not so much its own truth; it鈥檚 really an expression for everything else, which is a lie. This sounds crazy and distorted, but it鈥檚 true. Moreover, perhaps it isn鈥檛 love when I say you are what I love the most - you are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love. This, my dear, is love.”
―
Franz Kafka,
Letters to Milena