The Host

I just re-read the Host (by the author who wrote the Twilight saga, Stephenie Meyer). This quote is the reason I can't stop thinking about this book. It asks the difficult questions. What is love? And why is love? And how is love? And how on earth do you love all the way Christ tells us to?

What was it that made this human love so much more desirable to me than the love of my own kind? Was it because it was exclusive and capricious? The souls offered love and acceptance to all. Did I crave a greater challenge? This love was tricky; it had no hard-and-fast rules-- it might be given for free, as with Jamie, or earned through time and hard work, as with Ian, or completely and heartbreakingly unattainable, as with Jared.

Or was it simply better somehow? Because these humans could hate with so much fury, was the other end of the spectrum that they could love with more heart and zeal and fire?

I didn't know why I had yearned after it so desperately. All I knew was that, now I that I had it, it was worth every ounce of risk and agony it had cost. It was better than I'd imagined.

It was everything.