Love is being stupid together.

When Paul Valéry wrote, “Love is being stupid together,” he captured, in a single disarming sentence, one of the most profound truths about intimacy. Behind its playful tone lies a revelation: that love, in its purest form, is the freedom to be foolish, to drop the masks of perfection, to stand before another human being in vulnerability and joy. Valéry — the French poet, philosopher, and wit — was a man who lived among the intellectual elite, yet he understood that the mind alone cannot sustain affection. Love thrives not in brilliance, but in shared humanity — in laughter, in silliness, in the small absurdities that make two souls one.

To call love “being stupid together” is not to demean it, but to elevate the innocence at its heart. When two people love truly, they return, if only for a moment, to the childlike wonder that life often steals away. In love, one dares to play, to joke, to dance in foolish joy. The walls of pride crumble, and what remains is honesty — raw, unguarded, real. Valéry’s words remind us that to love is not to impress, but to share one’s unpolished self without shame. It is a union not of perfection, but of mutual acceptance — two beings laughing at the same foolish world, and finding in that laughter a kind of eternal sanctuary.

This idea has ancient echoes. The Greek philosophers spoke of Eros as a divine madness — a blessed foolishness that loosens the rigid mind and awakens the soul. Plato, in his Phaedrus, described love as “a kind of divine insanity” that leads us back to the beauty of truth. In much the same way, Valéry’s quip hides a timeless truth: wisdom and love dwell in different realms. The wise may analyze love, but only the lovers live it. Where intellect divides and measures, love unites and dissolves. In its own way, love is a rebellion against reason — a joyous surrender to the mystery of being alive together.

History is filled with lovers whose shared “foolishness” changed the world. Consider John Lennon and Yoko Ono, who were mocked for their unconventional love, their bed-ins, their strange art. Yet through that shared absurdity, they created something enduring: a message of peace and freedom. They were “stupid together” in the eyes of many, yet wise beyond measure in their hearts. Their laughter, their openness, and their refusal to conform showed that love is not about pleasing the world — it is about finding one’s own world in another person’s eyes.

To be “stupid together” also means to trust — to let down the armor of self-consciousness. The greatest barrier to love is fear: fear of judgment, of embarrassment, of not being enough. But when love is true, those fears vanish. Lovers make faces, share secrets, mispronounce words, and dance out of rhythm. And in those moments of shared absurdity, they find something sacred: belonging. For love is not built on grand speeches, but on the comfort of small, imperfect moments — the kind that can only exist when two people have stopped pretending to be anyone but themselves.

Valéry’s quote also speaks to humility. To love is to admit that one cannot go through life alone. It is to accept the glorious imperfection of being human — to laugh at our mistakes rather than hide them. In a world obsessed with intellect, status, and control, love returns us to the simple truth: that what makes life bearable is not mastery, but companionship. In foolishness, there is a kind of wisdom — the wisdom of the heart, which knows that joy and connection are more precious than dignity or logic.

So, my child, remember this: do not seek a love that demands perfection — seek one that allows you to be foolish. Find the person with whom you can laugh until words fail, with whom silence feels alive. Be unafraid to look ridiculous in love, for in that foolishness lies truth. Love that never risks absurdity is not love at all, but vanity in disguise.

Thus, as Paul Valéry reminds us, “Love is being stupid together.” It is the great leveling force, stripping away pride and pretense until two souls meet without masks. It teaches us that the highest wisdom in life is not to know more, but to feel more — to share laughter in the face of time, to be joyfully foolish in a world that takes itself too seriously. For when two hearts dare to be “stupid together,” they are, in truth, the wisest of all.