Though I may argue for the empire of leisure below, I take issue with this quote posted by Harper’s today in deference to Valentine’s Day:

While I write this letter, you are present to me as I am sure I shall be present to you, when you read it. We wear ourselves out with our scribbling to eachother, but is the spirit ever weary of loving? We find rest in those we love, and we provide a resting place in ourselves for those who love us.

–Bernard of Clairvaux, Letter No. 90 (1127 CE) in The Letters of St. Bernard of Clairvaux (B.S. James ed. 1953)

It seems to me a cheap sentiment to align ‘love’ with ‘a resting place.’ I may be an adherent to the cult of hyperactivity, but in my view it is not by rest that we assess meaning the world. It is by constant constructive apprehension that human existence is reaffirmed; and if ‘love’ constitutes a unity with that apprehension, then it is hardly restful.