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Love is a thing that’s given, not taken.
The day I met Louisa Trout, it was June in the sky but October in the earth.
“It’s the land that tells you where you are. The shape of the hills, the kinds of trees, the way the rivers bend or don’t bend—they’re like signs you can read. They’ll point you to wherever you’re going.”
Or maybe, after all, it’s not the view that’s beautiful or ugly. Maybe what counts is the way you look at it.
The stories are different, but the hurt’s the same, when you really get down to the heart of matters.”
“You can’t make the world yourself,” I said. “That’s God’s business.”
Things are bad now, sure. But we aren’t goners yet, you and me. We’re still here, and that means we still have time to make something good of our lives despite the Crash, and the hardship, and every-damn-thing else. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to give up hope as long as I’m still living.”
It’s love that reminds us who we really are. It’s love that holds the world together, even when everything tries its best to fall apart.”
love is a thing that’s given, not taken. If the love is real, then giving is enough.
but her history of extreme privilege would always make her the wrong voice to speak about the despair and deprivation of economic ruin and the yoke of the capitalist machine.
