Blessed are you who reach out and make love yours in all its forms, who love to the point of reaching me, staying with me, wishing not to move away from me and not being able to do without me.
Above all love A hidden inheritance
of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica Argument
→ My children struggle , climb , in a life that passes in trouble , in the poverty of love , of reason , they believe they are limited , they have thoughts that do not develop towards me, ears that do not listen , a heart as big as the mine , which they themselves limit in love .→ The world invades my son overwhelmingly , in anguish , it has no law , no rule of love , it uses means that overwhelm , it destroys every one of my sons until it plunges him into destruction , it uses my son , it takes possession of my son without delicacy , without gentleness , without love , it struggles to possess , to use my son with pain , with torment and with breathlessness .→ Too much makes you worry , too little leads you to unawareness .
Relative arguments