Love

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  was lazy, and he had believed it, but now he was not so sure. Each day represented a challenge to find more work and put food on the table. He was succeeding in this. He was not some miserable worm who needed a beating. Besides, the work was a way to get outside himself and immerse his mind in the problems of his students. The books he read took him far away from Taganrog and filled him with interesting thoughts that lingered in his mind for entire days. Taganrog itself was not so bad. Each shop, each house contained the oddest characters, supplying him endless material for stories. And that corner of the room—that was his kingdom. Far from feeling trapped, he now felt liberated. What had actually changed? Certainly not his circumstances, or Taganrog, or the corner of the room. What had changed was his attitude, which opened him up to new experiences and possibilities. Once he felt this, he wanted to take it further. The greatest remaining impediment to this sense of freedom was his father. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to get rid of deep feelings of bitterness. It was as if he could still feel the beatings and hear the endless pointed criticisms. As a last resort, he tried to analyze his father as if he were a character in a story. This led him to think about his father’s father and all the generations of Chekhovs. As he considered his father’s erratic nature and his wild imagination, he could understand how he must have felt trapped by his circumstances, and why he turned to drinking and tyrannizing the family. He was helpless, more a victim than an oppressor. This understanding of his father laid the groundwork for the sudden rush of unconditional love he felt one day for his parents. As he glowed with this new emotion, he finally felt completely liberated from resentments and anger. The negative emotions from the past had finally fallen away from him. His mind could now be completely open. The sensation was so exhilarating that he had to share it with his siblings and free them as well. What had brought Chekhov to this point was the crisis he had faced when left alone at such a young age. He experienced another such crisis some thirteen years later, when he became depressed about the pettiness of his fellow writers. His solution was to reproduce what had happened in Taganrog, but in reverse—he would be the one to abandon others and force himself to be alone and vulnerable. In this way he could reexperience the freedom and empathy he had felt in Taganrog. The early death sentence from tuberculosis was the last crisis. He would let go of his fear of death, and the bitter feelings that came with having his life cut short, by continuing to live at full tilt. This final and ultimate freedom gave him

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Whether it was necessary for Christ to suffer for the deliverance of the human race?Objection 1: It would seem that it was not necessary for Christ to suffer for the deliverance of the human race. For the human race could not be delivered except by God, according to Is. 45:21: “Am not I the Lord, and there is no God else besides Me? A just God and a Saviour, there is none besides Me.” But no necessity can compel God, for this would be repugnant to His omnipotence. Therefore it was not necessary for Christ to suffer. Objection 2: Further, what is necessary is opposed to what is voluntary. But Christ suffered of His own will; for it is written (Is. 53:7): “He was offered because it was His own will.” Therefore it was not necessary for Him to suffer. Objection 3: Further, as is written (Ps. 24:10): “All the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth.” But it does not seem necessary that He should suffer on the part of the Divine mercy, which, as it bestows gifts freely, so it appears to condone debts without satisfaction: nor, again, on the part of Divine justice, according to which man had deserved everlasting condemnation. Therefore it does not seem necessary that Christ should have suffered for man’s deliverance. Objection 4: Further, the angelic nature is more excellent than the human, as appears from Dionysius (Div. Nom. iv). But Christ did not suffer to repair the angelic nature which had sinned. Therefore, apparently, neither was it necessary for Him to suffer for the salvation of the human race. On the contrary, It is written (Jn. 3:14): “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.”

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Objection 4: Further, “What things soever were written,” especially of Christ, “were written for our learning,” according to Rom. 15:4. But some of the things written in the Gospels touching Christ’s burial in no wise seem to pertain to our instruction—as that He was buried “in a garden . . .” in a tomb which was not His own, which was “new,” and “hewed out in a rock.” Therefore the manner of Christ’s burial was not becoming. On the contrary, It is written (Is. 11:10): “And His sepulchre shall be glorious.” I answer that, The manner of Christ’s burial is shown to be seemly in three respects. First, to confirm faith in His death and resurrection. Secondly, to commend the devotion of those who gave Him burial. Hence Augustine says (De Civ. Dei i): “The Gospel mentions as praiseworthy the deed of those who received His body from the cross, and with due care and reverence wrapped it up and buried it.” Thirdly, as to the mystery whereby those are molded who “are buried together with Christ into death” (Rom. 6:4). Reply to Objection 1: With regard to Christ’s death, His patience and constancy in enduring death are commended, and all the more that His death was the more despicable: but in His honorable burial we can see the power of the dying Man, who, even in death, frustrated the intent of His murderers, and was buried with honor: and thereby is foreshadowed the devotion of the faithful who in the time to come were to serve the dead Christ. Reply to Objection 2: On that expression of the Evangelist (Jn. 19:40) that they buried Him “as the manner of the Jews is to bury,” Augustine says (Tract. in Joan. cxx): “He admonishes us that in offices of this kind which are rendered to the dead, the custom of each nation should be observed.” Now it was the custom of this people to anoint bodies with various spices in order the longer to preserve them from corruption [*Cf. Catena Aurea in Joan. xix]. Accordingly it is said in De Doctr. Christ. iii that “in all such things, it is not the use thereof, but the luxury of the user that is at fault”; and, farther on: “what in other persons is frequently criminal, in a divine or prophetic person is a sign of something great.” For myrrh and aloes by their bitterness denote penance, by which man keeps Christ within himself without the corruption of sin; while the odor of the ointments expresses good report.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  I answer that, Good and evil are the object of the concupiscible faculty. Now good naturally precedes evil; since evil is privation of good. Wherefore all the passions, the object of which is good, are naturally before those, the object of which is evil—that is to say, each precedes its contrary passion: because the quest of a good is the reason for shunning the opposite evil. Now good has the aspect of an end, and the end is indeed first in the order of intention, but last in the order of execution. Consequently the order of the concupiscible passions can be considered either in the order of intention or in the order of execution. In the order of execution, the first place belongs to that which takes place first in the thing that tends to the end. Now it is evident that whatever tends to an end, has, in the first place, an aptitude or proportion to that end, for nothing tends to a disproportionate end; secondly, it is moved to that end; thirdly, it rests in the end, after having attained it. And this very aptitude or proportion of the appetite to good is love, which is complacency in good; while movement towards good is desire or concupiscence; and rest in good is joy or pleasure. Accordingly in this order, love precedes desire, and desire precedes pleasure. But in the order of intention, it is the reverse: because the pleasure intended causes desire and love. For pleasure is the enjoyment of the good, which enjoyment is, in a way, the end, just as the good itself is, as stated above ([1225]Q[11], A[3], ad 3). Reply to Objection 1: We name a thing as we understand it, for “words are signs of thoughts,” as the Philosopher states (Peri Herm. i, 1). Now in most cases we know a cause by its effect. But the effect of love, when the beloved object is possessed, is pleasure: when it is not possessed, it is desire or concupiscence: and, as Augustine says (De Trin. x, 12), “we are more sensible to love, when we lack that which we love.” Consequently of all the concupiscible passions, concupiscence is felt most; and for this reason the power is named after it. Reply to Objection 2: The union of lover and beloved is twofold. There is real union, consisting in the conjunction of one with the other. This union belongs to joy or pleasure, which follows desire. There is also an affective union, consisting in an aptitude or proportion, in so far as one thing, from the very fact of its having an aptitude for and an inclination to another, partakes of it: and love betokens such a union. This union precedes the movement of desire. Reply to Objection 3: Pleasure causes love, in so far as it precedes love in the order of intention.

• From The History of Christianity II: From the Reformation to the Modern Megachurch (2017)

  rose through the ranks to lead other single women in a special covenant with Christ. They called themselves the Moravian Single Sisters, and had their own elaborate religious festivals. SEX AND MORAVIANS õ Despite their separations of people, the Moravians celebrated sexuality— they believed that sex between a man and woman was the most profound spiritual act, a holy sacrament. They taught that appreciating the full humanity of Christ included understanding Christ as a sexual being. One of their major holy days focused on the circumcision of the Christ child, and in their hymns and prayers they spoke very frankly about Christ’s penis. And on Christmas, they happily talked about Mary’s uterus and breasts. õ Zinzendorf did not totally repudiate the old Christian theme of sexual shame and repression, which goes back to St. Paul. He still condemned lust as sinful; the key was to sublimate lust, through a sanctified marriage, into an act that aimed to please God rather than one’s own body. But he was inspired by the Christian doctrine that God became fully human, genitalia and all. MORAVIAN MISSIONS õ The Moravians were committed to missions. By the time Zinzendorf died in 1760, the Moravians had sent more than 200 missionaries to 10 different countries, ranging from the West Indies to Greenland to South Africa. They understood missionary work as an extension of their intense personal love for Christ. õ Zinzendorf urged them to trust the Holy Spirit to prepare the way for them, and indeed this trust was so complete that they cast lots to decide which church members should serve as clergy or go on mission! 138 The History of Christianity II õ On the face of things, Moravian missionaries seemed to have a knack for reaching out to oppressed people. On the island of St. Thomas, for example, they got in trouble with local plantation owners for teaching slaves to read. Yet their counter-cultural attitude did not extend to opposing slavery itself. They accepted slavery as part of God’s order. Lecture 14—Pietist Revival in Europe 139 õ When a group of Moravians settled in North Carolina in the 1740s, they came to accept black slaves as a part of the local labor force and purchased many slaves to work on church land. Some of the slaves found that, by joining the church, they could use their spiritual status to bargain for better treatment. However, white Moravians often used religion to stamp out traditional African spirituality and impose more total control, just as other slave owners did. SUGGESTED READING Eire, Reformations. Erb, ed., The Pietists. Sensbach, A Separate Canaan. QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER ä What might have inspired converts to leave more conventional life behind and join a radical Pietist group? ä What accounts for the Moravians’ unconventional ideas about sexuality? ä If Pietists stressed ancient Christian themes, why did mainstream Protestants and Catholics keep trying to stamp them out? 140 The History of Christianity II

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Reply to Objection 3: As Chrysostom says on Mat. 17:3: “Moses and Elias are brought forward for many reasons.” And, first of all, “because the multitude said He was Elias or Jeremias or one of the prophets, He brings the leaders of the prophets with Him; that hereby at least they might see the difference between the servants and their Lord.” Another reason was “ . . . that Moses gave the Law . . . while Elias . . . was jealous for the glory of God.” Therefore by appearing together with Christ, they show how falsely the Jews “accused Him of transgressing the Law, and of blasphemously appropriating to Himself the glory of God.” A third reason was “to show that He has power of death and life, and that He is the judge of the dead and the living; by bringing with Him Moses who had died, and Elias who still lived.” A fourth reason was because, as Luke says (9:31), “they spoke” with Him “of His decease that He should accomplish in Jerusalem,” i.e. of His Passion and death. Therefore, “in order to strengthen the hearts of His disciples with a view to this,” He sets before them those who had exposed themselves to death for God’s sake: since Moses braved death in opposing Pharaoh, and Elias in opposing Achab. A fifth reason was that “He wished His disciples to imitate the meekness of Moses and the zeal of Elias.” Hilary adds a sixth reason—namely, in order to signify that He had been foretold by the Law, which Moses gave them, and by the prophets, of whom Elias was the principal. Reply to Objection 4: Lofty mysteries should not be immediately explained to everyone, but should be handed down through superiors to others in their proper turn. Consequently, as Chrysostom says (on Mat. 17:3), “He took these three as being superior to the rest.” For “Peter excelled in the love” he bore to Christ and in the power bestowed on him; John in the privilege of Christ’s love for him on account of his virginity, and, again, on account of his being privileged to be an Evangelist; James on account of the privilege of martyrdom. Nevertheless He did not wish them to tell others what they had seen before His Resurrection; “lest,” as Jerome says on Mat. 17:19, “such a wonderful thing should seem incredible to them; and lest, after hearing of so great glory, they should be scandalized at the Cross” that followed; or, again, “lest [the Cross] should be entirely hindered by the people” [*Bede, Hom. xviii; cf. Catena Aurea]; and “in order that they might then be witnesses of spiritual things when they should be filled with the Holy Ghost” [*Hilary, in Matth. xvii].

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  you fools! I am already pregnant with another child by Count Riario and I have the means to make more!” at which she lifted her skirts, as if to emphasize her meaning. Caterina had foreseen the maneuver with the children and had calculated that the assassins were weak and indecisive—they should have killed her and her family on that first day, amid the mayhem. Now they would not dare to kill them in cold blood: the assassins knew that the Sforzas, on their way to Forlì, would take terrible revenge on them if they ever did such a deed. And if she surrendered now, she and her children would all be imprisoned, and some poison would find its way into their food. She didn’t care what they thought of her as a mother. She had to keep stalling. To emphasize her resolve, after refusing to surrender, she had the cannons of the castle fire at the Orsi palace. Ten days later a Milanese army arrived to rescue her, and the assassins scattered. The countess was quickly restored to power, the new pope himself confirming her rule as regent until her eldest son, Ottaviano, came of age. And as word of all that she had done— and what she had yelled down to the assassins from the ramparts of Ravaldino—spread throughout Italy, the legend of Caterina Sforza, the beautiful warrior countess of Forlì, began to take on a life of its own. Within a year after the death of her husband, the countess had taken a lover, Giacomo Feo, the brother of the commander she had installed in Ravaldino. Giacomo was seven years younger than Caterina, and he was the polar opposite of Girolamo—handsome and virile, he had come from the lower classes, having served as the stable boy to the Riario family. Most important, he not only loved Caterina, he worshipped her and showered her with attention. The countess had spent her whole life mastering her emotions and subordinating her personal interests to practical matters. Suddenly feeling herself overwhelmed by Giacomo’s affection, she lost her habitual self-control and fell hopelessly in love. She made Giacomo the new commander of Ravaldino. As he now had to live in the castle, she built a palace for herself inside it and soon barely left its confines. Giacomo was decidedly insecure about his status. Caterina had him knighted, and in a secret ceremony they married. To allay his self-doubts, she increasingly handed over to him governing powers of Forlì and Imola, and began to retire from public affairs. She ignored the warnings of courtiers and diplomats that Giacomo was out for himself and was in over his head. She did not listen to her sons, who feared Giacomo had plans to get rid of them. In her eyes, her husband could do no wrong. Then one day in 1495, as she and Giacomo left the castle for a picnic, a group of assassins surrounded her husband and killed him before her eyes.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  “But I can’t be an instant elder. I can’t jump over all the things I’ve got to learn and I can’t get it all from you. I guess I’m saying that the first time I take you into my arms as a lover—and I will someday—I want to be mote grown-up than I am now.” I sucked in my breath. “And second of all, I love Jan, she’s my friend. You told me that what I do now, I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.” “T did say that,’ Edna sighed wistfully. She sat back in her chair, just at a moment when I wished she’d move closer. “Pm not ready to settle down with any butch,” she told me. “But if I were, Pd be honored to walk into the bar on your arm. If anyone had told me I could hurt as much as I do and still be so attracted to you, I’d have thought they were crazy.” I blushed. These were the words P’d waited to hear. She smiled. “And I am very flattered that a young butch like you would pay me such attention. You made me feel beautiful at a time when I didn’t think I was. But I don’t think I really realized what you were made of until I just heard what you said. I love butches,” she squeezed my arm. Her words were like a fire I warmed my hands in front of. “T love Rocco and Jan for being willing to take on the whole world rather than make a lie out of their Stone Butch Blues M1 lives. And somehow they still manage to be honorable women. They were loyal to me and to their friends.” I nodded and dropped my eyes. “T respect them for it,’ she told me “It’s part of why I love them so much. And I see that in you.” I was afraid if we kept talking I would forget my decision and bury myself in her arms. I wanted to ask her to teach me how to let myself be touched, but I couldn’t violate Jan’s confidence. Edna spoke first. “I’ve got to go home now.” I sighed in relief. I stood and held her coat for her. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and turned to me. She kissed me lightly on the lips. I took her waist in my hands. Her mouth opened for me and I discovered all the pleasure I’d hoped to find in its warmth. She pulled back. So did I. She lifted my injured hand and kissed my fingertips, and then she was gone. I stood in the same spot for a long time, unable to move. Peaches appeared at my side. “C’mon child,” she said, leading me to the bar. “Set ’em up, Meg, and keep ’em coming.”

• From Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood (2016)

  My whole life I’d slept in a room with my mom or on the floor with my cousins. I was used to having other human beings right next to me, so I slept in my mom’s bed most nights. There was no stepfather in the picture yet, no baby brother crying in the night. It was me and her, alone. There was this sense of the two of us embarking on a grand adventure. She’d say things to me like, “It’s you and me against the world.” I understood even from an early age that we weren’t just mother and son. We were a team. It was when we moved to Eden Park that we finally got a car, the beat-up, tangerine Volkswagen my mother bought secondhand for next to nothing. One out of five times it wouldn’t start. There was no AC. Anytime I made the mistake of turning on the fan the vent would fart bits of leaves and dust all over me. Whenever it broke down we’d catch minibuses, or sometimes we’d hitchhike. She’d make me hide in the bushes because she knew men would stop for a woman but not a woman with a child. She’d stand by the road, the driver would pull over, she’d open the door and then whistle, and I’d come running up to the car. I would watch their faces drop as they realized they weren’t picking up an attractive single woman but an attractive single woman with a fat little kid. When the car did work, we had the windows down, sputtering along and baking in the heat. For my entire life the dial on that car’s radio stayed on one station. It was called Radio Pulpit, and as the name suggests it was nothing but preaching and praise. I wasn’t allowed to touch that dial. Anytime the radio wasn’t getting reception, my mom would pop in a cassette of Jimmy Swaggart sermons. (When we finally found out about the scandal? Oh, man. That was rough.) But as shitty as our car was, it was a car. It was freedom. We weren’t black people stuck in the townships, waiting for public transport. We were black people who were out in the world. We were black people who could wake up and say, “Where do we choose to go today?” On the commute to work and school, there was a long stretch of the road into town that was completely deserted. That’s where Mom would let me drive. On the highway. I was six.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Whether some good of the soul constitutes man’s happiness?Objection 1: It would seem that some good of the soul constitutes man’s happiness. For happiness is man’s good. Now this is threefold: external goods, goods of the body, and goods of the soul. But happiness does not consist in external goods, nor in goods of the body, as shown above ([998]AA[4],5). Therefore it consists in goods of the soul. Objection 2: Further, we love that for which we desire good, more than the good that we desire for it: thus we love a friend for whom we desire money, more than we love money. But whatever good a man desires, he desires it for himself. Therefore he loves himself more than all other goods. Now happiness is what is loved above all: which is evident from the fact that for its sake all else is loved and desired. Therefore happiness consists in some good of man himself: not, however, in goods of the body; therefore, in goods of the soul. Objection 3: Further, perfection is something belonging to that which is perfected. But happiness is a perfection of man. Therefore happiness is something belonging to man. But it is not something belonging to the body, as shown above [999](A[5]). Therefore it is something belonging to the soul; and thus it consists in goods of the soul. On the contrary, As Augustine says (De Doctr. Christ. i, 22), “that which constitutes the life of happiness is to be loved for its own sake.” But man is not to be loved for his own sake, but whatever is in man is to be loved for God’s sake. Therefore happiness consists in no good of the soul. I answer that, As stated above ([1000]Q[1], A[8]), the end is twofold: namely, the thing itself, which we desire to attain, and the use, namely, the attainment or possession of that thing. If, then, we speak of man’s last end, it is impossible for man’s last end to be the soul itself or something belonging to it. Because the soul, considered in itself, is as something existing in potentiality: for it becomes knowing actually, from being potentially knowing; and actually virtuous, from being potentially virtuous. Now since potentiality is for the sake of act as for its fulfilment, that which in itself is in potentiality cannot be the last end. Therefore the soul itself cannot be its own last end. In like manner neither can anything belonging to it, whether power, habit, or act. For that good which is the last end, is the perfect good fulfilling the desire. Now man’s appetite, otherwise the will, is for the universal good. And any good inherent to the soul is a participated good, and consequently a portioned good. Therefore none of them can be man’s last end.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  Ten days later a Milanese army arrived to rescue her, and the assassins scattered. The countess was quickly restored to power, the new pope himself confirming her rule as regent until her eldest son, Ottaviano, came of age. And as word of all that she had done— and what she had yelled down to the assassins from the ramparts of Ravaldino—spread throughout Italy, the legend of Caterina Sforza, the beautiful warrior countess of Forlì, began to take on a life of its own. Within a year after the death of her husband, the countess had taken a lover, Giacomo Feo, the brother of the commander she had installed in Ravaldino. Giacomo was seven years younger than Caterina, and he was the polar opposite of Girolamo—handsome and virile, he had come from the lower classes, having served as the stable boy to the Riario family. Most important, he not only loved Caterina, he worshipped her and showered her with attention. The countess had spent her whole life mastering her emotions and subordinating her personal interests to practical matters. Suddenly feeling herself overwhelmed by Giacomo’s affection, she lost her habitual self-control and fell hopelessly in love. She made Giacomo the new commander of Ravaldino. As he now had to live in the castle, she built a palace for herself inside it and soon barely left its confines. Giacomo was decidedly insecure about his status. Caterina had him knighted, and in a secret ceremony they married. To allay his self-doubts, she increasingly handed over to him governing powers of Forlì and Imola, and began to retire from public affairs. She ignored the warnings of courtiers and diplomats that Giacomo was out for himself and was in over his head. She did not listen to her sons, who feared Giacomo had plans to get rid of them. In her eyes, her husband could do no wrong. Then one day in 1495, as she and Giacomo left the castle for a picnic, a group of assassins surrounded her husband and killed him before her eyes. Caught off guard by this action, Caterina reacted with fury. She rounded up the conspirators and had them executed and their families imprisoned. In the months after this, she fell into a deep depression, even contemplating suicide. What had happened to her over the past few years? How had she lost her way and given up her power? What had happened to her girlhood dreams and the spirit of her father that was her own? Something had clouded her mind. She turned to religion and she returned to ruling her realm. Slowly she recovered. Then one day she received a visit from Giovanni de’ Medici, a thirty-year-old member of the famous family and one of Florence’s leading businessmen. He had come to forge commercial ties between the cities.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  Kim knitted her eyebrows. “Then why don’t you wear dresses and let your hair grow long, like other girls?” I smiled. “Don’t you like me the way I am?” Scotty looked up at me and beamed. I wiped the ketchup off his nose with my glove. “I don’t want to change,” I told her. “I think girls and boys should be able to be any way they want to be without getting picked on.” Kim knelt on the bench, facing me. She took off her gloves and stroked my cheeks. I wondered if she 180 = Leslie Feinberg could see beard growth already. “What do you see?” I asked her. She shrugged and put her gloves back on. “You know what we’re getting you for Christmas? A radio!” Scotty told me excitedly. “Scotty!” Kim’s voice rose in anger. “You weren't supposed to tell. You ruined it.” Scotty’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s OK,” I hugged him. “It’s OK. Listen you guys—you kids—I have to tell you something.” Kim sat down heavily, as though she had been expecting this. I put my arm around both of them. “I have to go away before Christmas. I have to find a job.” There was a long silence. Scotty wrapped his arms around me and cried. “No! Don’t go away,” he pleaded. “Please? Pll be good. Please don’t go away.” I kissed the top of his snowsuit hood. “Oh, Scotty, you’re not bad. Both of you are very, very good. It’s not your fault I’m going away. I love you both so much. I’ve just got to get a job.” Kim sat with her hands on her lap, looking straight ahead. “I love you a lot,” I told them again. “Tm really gonna miss the two of you.” “Then why are you going away?” Kim’s voice pounded with rage. “Why can’t you get a job here?” She needed more of an explanation. “Kim, it’s not safe for me here, because I’m different.” Her face softened, which allowed the tears to well up. “Pm going somewhere I’ll be safe.” “Can I come too?” she asked. I pulled Scotty closer to me and extended my arm to Kim. She didn’t move closer, but I could tell she wanted to. “It’s not really a place I’m going to.” I wondered how much the unwritten laws allowed me to tell a child. “Imagine that you’re looking for me in a room. You look everywhere—in the closet, under the bed, behind the door—but I’m not there.” Scotty looked up. “Where are your” he asked. “T’m somewhere safe where no one would look. I’m up near the ceiling. Imagine you’re looking for me hete—behind the trees, under the benches, behind the elephant house. Where would I be safe?”

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  “One time,” I told her, “it was the first night I found one of our bars, that’s the night I met Al.” Edna nodded. “You were a friend of Al’s?” she said. A misty look clouded her eyes. “You knew Al?” I asked her. I meant knew in the biblical sense. She understood the question. “This is a small world,” she answered. “This circle of people stays pretty much the same.” She touched my arm. “Whatever you do now, make sure you can live with it for the rest of your life.” I knew Id better give that a lot of thought. “Anyway,” she said, “I interrupted you.” I leaned forward. “When I first laid eyes on Al, 104 = Leslie Feinberg it was like love at first sight, you know?” Edna’s face softened. “T mean, there’s different kinds of love,’ I said. “T can’t explain how it feels to me, but it’s love. That’s how I felt tonight when I saw Rocco.” Edna touched my face with her fingertips. “The more I get to know you,” she said, “the more I like you.” She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. I blushed from head to toe. Edna smiled. “T’ve got to go home and sleep,” Edna told me. “Do you want a ride?” I shook my head. “T think ’'m gonna stay for a while, thanks.” After Edna left, I replayed the whole night in my mind, over and over again. “Scabs!” we all screamed as the cops tried to help them cross our lines and take our jobs away. Hundreds of us strained at the barricades, and the cops held the scabs back. “Faggots!” some of our guys yelled at the strikebreakers. All the butches pulled back from the police barricades. The word seared like burning metal. “Duffy,” I pulled his arm. “What’s this faggot shit?” Duffy appeared torn in ten directions. “Alright,” he said. “Listen up you guys. Stop with the faggot stuff. They’re scabs.” The men looked confused. A light bulb lit up over Walter’s head. “Aw, shit.” He extended his hand to me. “We didn’t mean you 9 euys. I shook his hand. “Listen,” I said, “call them whatever you want, but don’t call them faggots.” Walter nodded. “Agreed.” “You cocksuckers! You motherfuckers!” they shouted instead. I pushed forward at the barricade. “You fucking scabs,” I yelled. “You all have sex with other men.” The guys looked baffled. “What’s she talking about?” Sammy wanted to know. “You have intercourse with your own mother,” I screamed. “That’s disgusting,” Walter said. Duffy intervened. “OK, they’re scabs and strikebreakers. Let’s call °em what they are, alright?” Duffy glared at me, but there was a smile underneath it, Grant pulled me aside and motioned towards Duffy. “You know that guy’s a communist?” I was stunned. “He is not,” I told her. “Oh yeah?” she asked me. “How do you know?” Jan looked worried. “Is that true?”

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  He had hardly been a month married when he was obliged to go to the wars again, and it was more than two years before he could return to his wife, who all the while continued to reside where she had been brought up. He wrote frequently to her in the interval ; but the chief part of his letters consisted of compliments to Florida, who on her part failed not to return them, and often even wrote with her own hand some pretty phrase in Aventurada's letters. This was quite enough to in- duce the husband to write frequently to his wife ; yet in all this Florida knew nothing but that she loved him like a brother. Amadour went and came several times, and during five years he saw Florida not more than two months altogether. Yet, in spite of distance and long absence, his love not only remained in full force, but even grew stronger. At last Amadour, coming to see his wife, found the countess far away from the court. The king had gone into Andalusia, and had taken with him the young Count of Aranda, who was already beginning to bear arms, and the countess had retired to a country-house of hers on the frontier of Aragon and Navarre. She was very glad of the arrival of Amadour, whom she had not seen for nearly three years. He was welcomed by every- body, and the countess commanded that he should be treated as her own son. When he was with her, she consulted him on all the affairs of her house, and did just 76 THE HEPTAMERON OF THE \Novd lo. as he advised. In fact, his influence in the family was unbounded ; and so strong was the belief in his discern- ment that he was trusted on all occasions as though he had been a saint or an angel. As for Florida, who loved Aventurada, and had no suspicion of her husband's in- tentions, she testified her affection for him without reserve. Her heart being free from passion, she felt much pleasure in his society, but she felt nothing more. He, on the other hand, found it a very hard task to evade the penetration of those who knew by experience the difference between the looks of a man who loves and of one who does not love ; for when Florida talked familiarly with him in her frank simplicity, the hidden fire in his heart blazed up so violently that he could not help feel- ing it in his face, and letting some sparks from it escape from his eyes.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Thou art one in substance, O God, and three in Persons. O Almighty Father, with Thine Only-begotten Son and with Thy Holy Spirit, Thou art one God and one Lord. What I believe of Thee, that without difference of separation I believe of Thy Son and of Thy Holy Spirit. I adore Thee, Eternal God, in Trinity of Persons, in oneness of Essence, in sameness of Majesty. I bless Thee for all Thy glory, and I thank Thee for all Thy gifts. I thank Thee and bless Thee now for giving me Jesus in this most Holy Sacrament of Love. Glory be to Thee, O Blessed Trinity, one God, for ever and ever. Praise and blessing and honour be to Thee, O Father, and to Thee, O Son, and to Thee, O Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Praise and blessing be given to Thee by the mouths of all and by the hearts of all for ever and ever. Praise and adoration be given by all to Thee, O Father; to Thee, O Word; to Thee, O Paraclete. O Incarnate Word, with one supplication and with one act of worship I adore Thy Godhead, and the Human Nature which Thou hast assumed; for Thou art Emmanuel, God with us, the Word made flesh. With one adoration I adore Thee in Thy two natures and oneness of Person. Without confusion of Thy Godhead and Thy Humanity, I adore Thee, God, the Word Incarnate, with Thy Body and Soul, as Thy Holy Church has taught us from the beginning. Thou, Jesus, God and man, art Lord of all, the Second Person of the Ever-blessed Trinity. My Lord and my God and my Saviour, Thou hast come to me as the food of my soul, and I bless Thee and praise Thee. Thou art the Bread of Heaven, my Jesus, and I find Thee at this Table of God. Thou art the medicine of the soul, and I find Thee the true Manna in the Holy Eucharist. Enlighten me, my Jesus, and purify me, and save me from the second death. Make me upright, truthful, and just. Fill my heart with the sweetness of Thy presence. Give me brotherly love, and make me patient, meek, gentle, forgiving, kind, unsuspicious, and forbearing. Fill my heart with the charity which thinketh no evil. Make me like Thyself and dear to Thy Heart; make me like God and dear to God; and give me life for ever in Thy kingdom. O Blessed Trinity, every good gift comes from Thee. From Thee and by Thee and in Thee are all things. Thy great gift is the living Body of Jesus. He has come to me. He is the Bread which stays my hunger. He is the Bread which strengthens and enlightens my soul. He is the Bread by which I live. O Blessed Trinity, evermore give me this Bread. O Blessed Trinity: O Blessed Trinity: O Blessed Trinity. PART VII

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Thou, dear Father, hast condemned me to go back to the dust from which I came. I joyfully welcome Thy sentence, as the punishment of my sins, and I love Thee and bless Thee and praise Thee for it. Thou, dear Father, hast given me for a while my pilgrimage through the desert, and for a while there stand before Paradise Thy Cherubim with flaming swords. But thou hast saved me from the piercing anguish of the endless pain, and from the bitterness of the unbearable woe: for so much didst Thou love us that Thou gavest Thy Son, that all who believe in Him may not perish, but have everlasting life. For this I love Thee and bless Thee and praise Thee. Thou givest us pain and sorrow; Thou layest Thy dear hand often very heavily upon us, and through much suffering we have to come to Thee; but all that Thou doest is done in love and pity and kindness and compassion and tenderness. Thou chastenest those children whom Thou dost receive. Whatever Thou mayest do to me I will love Thee and bless Thee. In darkness and in storm, in the cold and wind and rain, in the lightning and the voice of Thy thunder, in famine and pestilence, I will always see Thy hand, and will always love Thee. In all things I will trust Thee: though Thou shouldest slay me, I will trust Thee with most utter trust. My heart leaps up with joy at the thought of Thy truth and justice and love. Thou, dearest Father, art the keeper of Israel, who neither slumbers nor sleeps. Thy eyes are always over me, and Thy ears are always open to my prayers. Thy everlasting arms are round me; Thou hast given me Jesus for my help and safety; and though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for He will be with me, the Shepherd of my soul, and His rod and staff will give me comfort and strength. He is ever my food for the way; I thank Thee forgiving me that food now. Dear Father, give me evermore that Living Bread. For all that Thou ever hast done, for all that Thou doest now, for all that Thou ever wilt do, I love Thee and bless Thee and praise Thee for ever and ever. XXIV About the three chief effects of our Lord’s BodyThe most Holy Body of Jesus has three chief effects: (1) it destroys sins; (2) it gives and increases spiritual gifts; (3) it strengthens souls, or gives everlasting life. (1) The first chief effect of our Lord’s Body is the destruction of sin; and this it does in three ways: 1, it cleanses the stain of the heart; 2, it weakens the stings of the flesh; 3, it gives strength against bad thoughts.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Objection 3: Further, a man loves God as much as he loves to enjoy God. But a man loves himself as much as he loves to enjoy God; since this is the highest good a man can wish for himself. Therefore man is not bound, out of charity, to love God more than himself. On the contrary, Augustine says (De Doctr. Christ. i, 22): “If thou oughtest to love thyself, not for thy own sake, but for the sake of Him in Whom is the rightest end of thy love, let no other man take offense if him also thou lovest for God’s sake.” Now “the cause of a thing being such is yet more so.” Therefore man ought to love God more than himself. I answer that, The good we receive from God is twofold, the good of nature, and the good of grace. Now the fellowship of natural goods bestowed on us by God is the foundation of natural love, in virtue of which not only man, so long as his nature remains unimpaired, loves God above all things and more than himself, but also every single creature, each in its own way, i.e. either by an intellectual, or by a rational, or by an animal, or at least by a natural love, as stones do, for instance, and other things bereft of knowledge, because each part naturally loves the common good of the whole more than its own particular good. This is evidenced by its operation, since the principal inclination of each part is towards common action conducive to the good of the whole. It may also be seen in civic virtues whereby sometimes the citizens suffer damage even to their own property and persons for the sake of the common good. Wherefore much more is this realized with regard to the friendship of charity which is based on the fellowship of the gifts of grace. Therefore man ought, out of charity, to love God, Who is the common good of all, more than himself: since happiness is in God as in the universal and fountain principle of all who are able to have a share of that happiness. Reply to Objection 1: The Philosopher is speaking of friendly relations towards another person in whom the good, which is the object of friendship, resides in some restricted way; and not of friendly relations with another in whom the aforesaid good resides in totality. Reply to Objection 2: The part does indeed love the good of the whole, as becomes a part, not however so as to refer the good of the whole to itself, but rather itself to the good of the whole.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  “Honey? You know how sometimes you say ‘Tl never understand women’? Well, think about it, sweetheart—you ate a woman. So what are you really saying? It’s sort of like a gun with a barrel that’s open on both ends. When you shoot it, you end up wounding yourself at the same time.” I turned and washed dishes in silence. Theresa wrapped her arms around me. “Honey?” she nudged. “T’m listening. Pl think about it.” I paused for a long moment. “Hey, wait a minute.” I turned around and faced her. “I’m not the one who says Pll never understand women. I say I’ll never understand femmes.” Theresa smiled and hooked her finger through the belt loop on my jeans and pulled my pelvis against hers. “Oh, baby,” she whispered seductively, “you’re right about that.” Surprise! Our living room was filled with friends. “Happy birthday, honey,’ Theresa beamed. The smile faded from her face. She held my head gently and turned it. The cut over my eye looked worse than it really was. Theresa calmly took me by the hand. “C’mon, let’s clean that up.” I sat on the toilet seat. She dabbed at the cut. “What happened?” I shrugged. “Three guys outside the 7-11. They were drunk.” “Are you OK?” she asked. I smiled. “Yes and no.” She taped over the cut with two bandaids. “Maybe this party wasn’t such a good idea,” she sighed. I grabbed her hand. “What? All the people I love in one room when I need them?” Theresa kissed my forehead. She lifted my hand and turned it over. My knuckles were bloody and swollen. She smiled. “Right on, honey! I hope you fucked ’em up good.” I shrugged. “It was three against one, but they were really, really drunk. I did the best I could.” Theresa pulled my face gently against her Stone Butch Blues 149 belly. She kissed my hair and smoothed it with her fingertips. “You do real good, baby.” It was a great party. The mood was no longer boisterous, but we could each taste and feel how much we meant to each other. Jan leaned against the side of the refrigerator. I got out two beers and offered her one. “You alright?” she asked. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t think I was alright at all. It was so hard to be different. The pressure never let up for a minute. I felt all messed up inside and bone weary. That’s what I wanted to tell her. But the words wouldn’t come. I shrugged. “I’m twenty-one today and I feel old.” I could see the sadness in Jan’s smile. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s some age you can’t count by years. You know how they cut a slice from a tree and count the rings? You got a lot of rings inside that trunk of yours. You know what? I think it’s time I stopped calling you &7d. You stopped being a kid a long time ago.”

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  I was real proud that in all those years I never hit another butch woman. See, I loved them too, and I understood their pain and their shame because I was so much like them. I loved the lines etched in their faces and hands and the curves of their work- weary shoulders. Sometimes I looked in the mirror and wondered what I would look like when I was their age. Now I now! In their own way, they loved me too. They protected me because they knew I wasnt a “Saturday-night butch.” The weekend butches were scared of me because I was a stone he-she. Tf only they had known how powerless I really felt inside! But the older butches, they knew the whole road that lay ahead of me and they wished I didn’t have to go down it because it hurt so much. When I came into the bar in drag, kind of hunched over, they told me, “Be proud of what you are,” and then they adjusted my tie sort of likeyou did. I was like them; they knew I didnt have a choice. So I never fought them with my fists. We clapped each other on the back in the bars and watched each other’s backs at the factory. But then there were the times our real enemies came in the front door: drunken gangs of sailors, Klan-type thugs, sociopaths and cops. You abvays knew when they walked in because someone thought to pull the plug on the jukebox. No matter how many times it happened, we all still went “Aw ...” when the music stopped and then realized it was time to get down to business. When the bigots came in, it was time to fight, and fight we did. Fought hard—femme and butch, women and men together. Tf the music stopped and it was the cops at the door, someone plugged the music back in and we switched dance partners. Us in our suits and ties paired off with our drag queen sisters in their dresses and pumps. Hard to remember that it was illegal then for tyo women or hyo men to sway to music together. When the music ended, the butches bowed, our femme partners curtsied, and we returned to our seats, our lovers, and our drinks to await our fates. Thats when I remember your hand on my belt, up under my suit jacket. Thats where your hand stayed the whole time the cops were there. “Take it easy, honey. Stay with me baby, cool off,” youd be cooing in my ear like a special lover’s song sung to warriors who need to pick and choose their battles in order to SUTVIVE. We learned fast that the cops alvays pulled the police van right up to the bar door and left snarling dogs inside so we couldnt get out. We were trapped, alright.

• From Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir (2004)

  Some pace and mutter, bend to pick butts off the tile, their fingers orange with nicotine. Some piss themselves in their sleep, and the piss spreads out, soaking those unfortunate enough to be in proximity. The weekend supervisor calls himself “Captain Yusef,” and he calls the 3-to-11 the “Can-Do Shift.” After work we go out drinking, to the Rat or the Middle East or to Chet’s Last Call, to hear the Minutemen or the Pixies, the Del Fuegos or Galaxie 500. Motorhead or Flesh For Lulu. Or just to drink, to lean into each other and shout over the noise, to put our lips to each other’s ears, to see how it feels to be that close, another’s voice vibrating inside our brains, barely understood but enough. Enough to drive to her apartment after closing time and stay. And then the next afternoon we’re both back in the Brown Lobby, listening to the reading of the log. Only now I’d been in her room or she’d been in mine and we know more about each other, we’d seen each other naked or felt the other’s nakedness in the darkness and we’re both sheepish but charged up by it all and we know we’ll go out drinking again after the shift only maybe this time alone or maybe just go straight to her apartment. Often I feel like a glorified security guard, often a guest is asked to take a walk because there isn’t time to deal with him any other way. And if a guest begins to “escalate,” to “go off” (Look! here comes a walking fire!) , it threatens the whole building, poof , up in flames. Some days it feels like an unending play, a play that began from an idea, the idea of bending down to someone struggling, but that idea kept expanding, like some theory of the universe, until it grew so large that it will be impossible to ever stage. It has become nearly the size of air, or water. A map the size of the world. It could have just been a job, a paycheck, relatively well-paying for unskilled labor. For some of my co-workers it was, some make a career of less. But I didn’t think working with the homeless would be my career. I left several times, for a month or six, only to return, start again, back in the Brown Lobby. I didn’t care so much about the money, I had other ways to make money. But I kept returning. At the shelter no one asks where you come from or why you ended up there. The woman I went home with didn’t ask why I wasn’t trying for something more—a nice car, a real apartment. No matter what I’d say it’d only be half believed anyway. After eight hours her clothes and her hair smelled just like mine.