Noël Coward at Waterloo Station in London, 1937.
“To me, passionate love has been like a tight shoe rubbing blisters on my Achilles’ heel. I resent it and love it and wallow and recover and it’s all part of ‘life’s rich pattern’ and I wish to God I could handle it, but I never have and I know I never will.”
-Noël Coward, excerpted from The Noël Coward Diaries
i think i see how this can be understood.maybe love cant be put in words.
is it possible that Noel’s definition of passionate love as a tight shoe causing blisters… the end result of many long and true bottoms-up romances?
Wouldn’t it be more relevant to hint that love is more like a pair of wool socks? Or a even a favorite Ziggy cartoon? (both of which might be my first or fourth choices.)