Quotes from Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi

Love is bigger than us. So we confuse ourselves over it.And of course, its vastness overwhelms. But then that is the only lesson in life.How to love. How to love well, with a detached eye but a concerned hand.How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly, though, how to never stop loving.

Even love comes with its own season.. and relationships with their own kismets.They start through us, and then love loves through us. And when the give-and-take between two individuals is over, the relationship fades. Like a fruit that must fall from the bough if it is to carry its life into its next avatar. There is nothing more critical than to exercise the generosity to let something end with the grace it started with.

We'll probably never save our souls - but hell, at least we'll get our hair sorted.

Life essentially seeks out balance.I have found that it is in the habit of trading one sorrow for one joy until one cancels out the other.

Why settle for someone else's version of the truth?

I never lie!" her aunt said. 'I merely make the truth what it hopes to be.

how lovers alter in the glance of each other, that space where their moods are accepted and their surrender is never taken advantage of.

Elegance is not everything.

Love is bigger than us. So we confuse over it. And of course its vastness overwhelms. But then that is the only lesson in life. How to love. how to love well, with detached eye but a concerned hand. How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly though, how to never stop loving.

There is nothing more critical than to exercise the generosity to let something end with the grace it started with.

She raised her head and stared at the birds with him, caught in a web of awe and loneliness.

Maybe that's all there is to it: language, how we employ it to know someone, or love them more deeply.

There is a certain part of all of us that lives outside of time

Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height.

Without love, age leapt into him like a demon.

How come no one tells a rabbit to settle down? It's completely kosher for all of you to "fuck like bunnies" – in fact, it's part of the job description.

Without love and friendship, we'd be a planet of lemmings, jumping off the cliff, no one quite knowing why.

He imagined that the people here would never die: they would simply evaporate into the carnal smoke of the music, their loins wrapped around each other, self and sorrow abandoned to the roar of lust.

Stories fix us. Stories make us see. Stories remind us how we have failed at love, why we should try harder. Stories teach us when to leave. Stories remind us that we are not alone in our anguish – everyone is a little bit broken, and perhaps better for it.

The sky falls. But there are other skies behind it. You just can't see it at the time.

I'm presently peeing from the delight from seeing you again).

Perhaps this sort of thing drove Oscar Wilde to reflect, 'Death must be so beautiful; to have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace.' There was a great deal to become yet for all that had been my undoing. ––

I thought it was a little like writing, words freed from the mind, from imagination, free at long last. I did not think this a good recommendation for writing: to compare it to skull stabbing, but perhaps it is a version of that.

At the end, we receive ashes. They are not condensations of being but a reminder that even fire cannot destroy what has been loved. ––