Even after that, your hearts became as hard as rocks, or even harder, for there are rocks from which streams spring out, and some from which water comes when they split open, and others which fall down in awe of God: He is not unaware of what you do. (2:74)
منزلیں لاکھ کٹھن آئیں گزر جاؤں گی
حوصلہ ہار کے بیٹھوں گی تو مر جاؤں گی
چل رہے تھے جو میرے ساتھ کہاں ہیں وہ لوگ
جو یہ کہتے تھے کہ رستے میں بکھر جاؤں گی
لاکھ روکیں یہ اندھیرے مرا رستہ لیکن
میں جدھر روشنی جائے گی ادھر جاؤں گی
“I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion—I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more—I could be martyr’d for my Religion—Love is my religion—I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.”
Are you kidding meeee😩😩😩
But good God, what’s wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn’t know?