Son, youre probably too young to look for wisdom in anyones words but your own, but Ill tell you this: love is the enemy Yes. The poets continually and sometimes willfully mistake love. Love is the old slaughterer. Love is not blind. Love is a cannibal with extremely acute vision. Love is insectile; it is always hungry. When asked what love eats: Friendship. It eats friendship.Pt. 1, Ch. 11

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