He loved big
In 41 years, I have accomplished very little of lasting importance. I haven't amassed a large amount of money. I've built no grand estate. I have a handful of friends I don't talk to. My family is basically estranged. Or I wish they would be. I've made no career for myself. I have no laurels to rest on. In short, I'm a failure. There's one thing I have done, though. I have loved big. Let them put that on my tombstone. As big as I loved, it wasn't enough, which is a puzzlement. It was like pouring a bucket of water on a vast desert. Simply not enough. In spite of the ineffectiveness, it's perhaps the only thing I'm good at. I love big. I love hard. That's the way love should be. No, I'm not making a dirty joke. But love should have dimensions to it, a magnitude, a power. You should be able to feel it move from one chest to another like a force. It should be kind and gentle but should make itself known. Love is the one thing I...