too gentle to live among wolves

I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us.

We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand.

We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well.

Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide.

Most of all we love and want to be loved.

We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

For wanderers,


and lovers,

for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful.

It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.




you can’t choose what stays and what fades away

You are the hole in my head, you are the space in my bed, you are the silence in between what I thought and what I said. You are the nighttime fear, you are the morning when it’s clear. When it’s over, you’ll start, you’re my head and you’re my heart.


Florence Welch

that’s what happens when you’re all heart

The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest,
how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated.
And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough,
that they didn’t invest enough heart,
didn’t love enough.

Nothing else really counts at all.

Ted Hughes