The love we give away is the only love we keep.

"The love we give away is the only love we keep." – Elbert Hubbard

In the great rhythm of life, where all things are born to pass and pass to be reborn, the words of Elbert Hubbard carry the quiet thunder of truth. He teaches us that love, unlike gold or power, cannot be hoarded. When we clutch it too tightly, it withers; when we release it freely, it multiplies beyond measure. To say that “the love we give away is the only love we keep” is to reveal the paradox of the soul — that in giving, we are enriched; in withholding, we are diminished. This is the ancient law of the heart, known to the sages before words were written: that only through generosity does the spirit remain whole.

To understand this, we must first see that love is not a possession but a flow. It is like the light of the sun — it shines not to gain, but simply because it is its nature to shine. When we share love — through kindness, forgiveness, or compassion — we participate in that divine current. We become conduits of the same energy that moves the stars and awakens the dawn. What we give does not diminish us; it anchors eternity within us. For what is love held back but water trapped behind a dam, growing stagnant and heavy? Only in its giving does it find purity.

History tells of countless souls who have lived this truth, but perhaps none more clearly than Mother Teresa. In the streets of Calcutta, among the sick and the forgotten, she gave everything — her time, her comfort, even her strength. Yet when asked how she could endure such endless labor, she replied, “I am more full now than I have ever been.” For every act of love she gave away, she received the peace of the eternal in return. This is the divine arithmetic of the heart: what is shared is never lost, but becomes the only treasure we truly possess.

Hubbard’s wisdom strikes against the illusion that love can be kept by guarding it. Many fear to give, believing they will be left empty or betrayed. But this is the fear of the ego, not the knowledge of the soul. The one who loves only to be loved lives in chains, while the one who loves without demand walks in freedom. When we give love — not for reward, not for control, but because our nature compels it — we discover a joy that no loss can touch. For even if love is not returned, the act of giving transforms us into something greater.

Think of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, and the bishop who forgave Jean Valjean when he stole his silver. That single act of love freely given changed the course of another man’s soul. The bishop gained nothing in worldly sense, yet he kept something far more precious — the radiance of mercy, the eternal warmth of compassion that no thief could steal. In giving away his silver, he received the gold of spiritual immortality. Thus, the love we give away is not wasted; it becomes part of us — the truest part.

The ancients would have said: “The lamp loses nothing by lighting another flame.” So too does the heart lose nothing by loving another. Indeed, it grows brighter. When we bless others with love — in word, in deed, or even in silent thought — we are shaping the unseen world, turning sorrow into healing, bitterness into peace. Love given becomes love kept because it expands the soul; it awakens the divine essence within us that is eternal and untouchable by decay.

And so, dear listener of wisdom, remember this teaching: if you wish to possess love, do not seek to own it — give it. Give it when it is easy, and even more when it is hard. Offer forgiveness to those who wound you, patience to those who test you, and kindness to those who cannot repay you. These are the treasures that time cannot erode. The hands that give will never be empty; the heart that loves will never be poor.

For in the end, Elbert Hubbard’s truth stands as an eternal commandment to all souls: “The love we give away is the only love we keep.” Let your life be a river, not a reservoir. Let your love flow outward into the world — to friends, to strangers, to the weary and forgotten. For every act of love you release will return to you, not as praise, but as peace — the quiet knowing that you have touched eternity and that, in giving, you have truly kept the only thing that ever matters.