Love Quote by Luigi Pirandello

Pirandello skewers the feel-good romance of “humanity” by treating it as a mirror, not a window. To declare love for humanity is to claim a gigantic moral bandwidth without the inconvenience of proximity: no particular person’s needs, contradictions, or pettiness can interrupt the glow. The line lands like a trapdoor because it reframes a supposedly outward-facing virtue as self-congratulation. “Well satisfied with yourself” isn’t just vanity; it’s a psychological payoff. You get to be the kind of person who loves everyone, which often means you don’t have to deal with anyone.

The intent is characterological, almost theatrical: Pirandello knows that grand declarations work as costumes. In his world, identity is a performance under pressure, built from roles and masks we mistake for essence. “Humanity” is the ultimate abstract role, roomy enough to fit any ego. Loving humanity can mean loving the idea of being humane, which plays beautifully in public while remaining immune to the messy intimacy of actual human contact.

Context matters: writing in early 20th-century Italy, Pirandello watched modern life erode stable truths, while politics and social ideals kept offering glossy, totalizing slogans. His plays repeatedly expose how people hide behind concepts to avoid the humiliating chaos of real relationships. This aphorism is a small, sharp version of that larger project: suspicion toward moral theater, especially when it comes with applause.