Life & Wisdom Quote by Barbara de Angelis

De Angelis sells love less as a feeling than as a force of consecration: it doesn’t just improve your life, it changes the moral status of whatever it lands on. That’s a canny move for a self-help era that’s suspicious of doctrine but hungry for ritual. By borrowing the language of religion - “gift,” “sacred,” “touches” - she sneaks transcendence into the everyday without requiring a church, a creed, or even a particularly coherent theology. The sacred becomes portable, personal, on-demand.

The intent is elevating, even strategic: if love sanctifies, then loving (and being loved) becomes not merely desirable but ennobling. Your partner, your child, your work, your body, your memories: all can be upgraded from ordinary to meaningful. That’s the promise, and it flatters the reader’s agency. You don’t have to earn holiness; you can generate it through attachment.

The subtext is more complicated. “Everything it touches” hints at love’s spillover effect, but it also dodges the fact that love can crown the wrong things. People sanctify relationships that should end, ideals that curdle into control, nostalgia that hardens into a shrine. The line’s brilliance is its soft absolutism: it frames love as inherently purifying, which feels liberating when you’re starved for meaning and slightly dangerous when you’re using devotion as a defense against reality.

Contextually, it fits De Angelis’s broader project: translating therapeutic language into spiritual uplift, giving modern readers a vocabulary for reverence that doesn’t sound like homework.