“I wish I knew why people think it’s so important to be emotional,” Teddy said. “My mother and father don’t think a person’s human unless he thinks a lot of things are very sad or very annoying or very-very unjust, sort of. My father gets very emotional even when he reads the newspaper. He thinks I’m inhuman.”
. . .
“You love God, don’t you?” Nicholson asked [ . . . ].
“Yes, sure, I love Him. But I don’t love Him sentimentally. He never said anybody had to love Him sentimentally,” Teddy said. “If I were God, I certainly wouldn’t want people to love me sentimentally. It’s too unreliable.”
“You love your parents, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do–very much,” Teddy said, “but you want to make me use that word to mean what you want it to mean–I can tell.”
“All right. In what sense do you want to use it?”
Teddy thought it over. “You know what the word ‘affinity’ means?” he asked, turning to Nicholson.
Teddy, J. D. Salinger
Affinity might have something to do with love, but I don’t think it’s enough at all.
Museum of Glass; Tacoma, WA — June.