He looked at me and smiled."You understand but you do not love God."
No."
"You do not love Him at all?" he asked.
"I am afraid of Him in the night sometimes."
"You should love Him."
"I don't love much."
"Yes," he said. "You do. What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust. When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve."
"I don't love."
"You will. I know you will. Then you will be happy."
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms
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