For, verily, great love springs from great knowledge of the

The words of Leonardo da Vinci, the universal genius of the Renaissance, shimmer with eternal wisdom: “For, verily, great love springs from great knowledge of the beloved object, and if you little know it, you will be able to love it only little or not at all.” In this statement, Leonardo joins heart and mind, declaring that affection is not born merely of desire or attraction, but of understanding. To truly love something—or someone—is to know it deeply: its strengths, its weaknesses, its mysteries, and its truth. Without knowledge, love is but a shadow; with knowledge, love becomes unshakable and vast.

The origin of this reflection lies in Leonardo’s own life, for he was both lover of nature and tireless student of its secrets. He dissected the human body not from cold detachment, but from reverence, for he believed that to know the human form was to behold its divine perfection. He observed birds in flight, water flowing in rivers, the growth of plants, and in each detail his knowledge deepened his love. For Leonardo, knowledge was not separate from affection—it was the very root of it. By knowing deeply, he learned to love profoundly.

History bears this truth in countless examples. Consider the story of St. Francis of Assisi, who embraced the natural world not with ignorance but with intimacy. He studied the habits of animals, the rhythms of the earth, and through this knowledge, he came to love creation as his brother and sister. His love was not sentimental but rooted in recognition—he saw and understood, and thus he loved. Contrast this with those who destroy nature out of ignorance; they cannot love the earth, for they do not know it. Knowledge opens the door to reverence.

So too in human affairs. A shallow acquaintance may give rise to fleeting affection, but only the one who truly knows another—their joys, their sorrows, their faults, their greatness—can love them with endurance. History recalls Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor, who wrote that to understand the nature of man is to forgive and to love him. By knowing the frailty of humanity, he could respond with patience rather than contempt. Leonardo’s wisdom reflects the same principle: without knowledge, love falters; with it, love flourishes.

O seekers of truth, mark this well: to love without seeking to know is to embrace an illusion. But to know without loving is to become a cold mechanic of facts. The highest path is union—where knowledge kindles love, and love hungers for deeper knowledge. Thus does the heart drive the mind, and the mind nourish the heart, in a circle without end. This is the secret of all great art, science, and devotion: love growing from knowledge, and knowledge deepening through love.

The lesson is clear. If you wish to love your family, your nation, your world, begin by knowing them. Study their histories, listen to their stories, explore their struggles, see their beauty. Do not be content with surface impressions, for love that is shallow is fragile. Love that is rooted in knowledge endures all trials, for it has seen the truth and still chooses to embrace.

Practical action lies before you: learn to observe, to listen, to study. If you claim to love nature, spend time knowing its patterns, its fragility, its magnificence. If you claim to love a person, seek to know them in patience and honesty, even in their imperfections. If you claim to love humanity, learn its history—the triumphs and the tragedies—so that your love may not be naïve but enduring.

Thus let Leonardo’s words endure as both wisdom and command: “Great love springs from great knowledge of the beloved object.” Take this into your heart. Strive always to know more deeply, so that you may love more greatly. For knowledge without love is barren, and love without knowledge is weak—but when the two are united, they become the force that shapes worlds and builds eternities.