The Neighbor (n.) is equal... he is neither the beloved, for whom you have passion's preference, nor your friend, for whom you have passion's preference.
A Neighbor (n.) means the nearest — nearer than all others, yet not by preference, for to love the one preferentially nearest is self-love.
A Neighbor (n.) is your own self doubled — what philosophers call "the other", the touchstone that shows what is selfish in self-love.
A Neighbor (n.) need not even exist: a man on a desert island, renouncing self-love in his mind, could be said to love his neighbor.
A Neighbor (n.) is a multitude in one: if you love a single other person “as yourself,” you love all men.
A Neighbor (n.) is someone we only notice when we think we have rights against him; Christ turns the question round — not “who is my neighbor?” but “to whom am I a neighbor?”
A Neighbor (n.) is easy to find — unlike a beloved or a friend, which are complicated tasks — if only we will recognize our duty.
A Neighbor (n.) is a discovery of Christian love: if it were not a duty to love, the concept of neighbor would not exist.
A Neighbor (n.) is the first person you meet when you open the door you closed to pray — no travelling round the world in vain, as one must for a beloved or a friend.
A Neighbor (n.) is the one person impossible to mistake: confuse anyone with your neighbor and there is no mistake, for that man is also your neighbor.
A Neighbor (n.) is the middle term of self-abnegation, entering between the I and I of selfishness and between the I and the other I of earthly love.
A Neighbor (n.) is the first you — and no talk of the first I or the other I brings you a step nearer to him.
A Neighbor (n.) is neither the superior (loving him for that is partiality) nor the inferior (that is condescension) but your equal before God — encouraging toward the great, humbling toward the lowly.
A Neighbor (n.) would be the greatest deception ever invented if loving him meant first ceasing to love the beloved — the beloved too is a neighbor.
A Neighbor (n.) can never be lost: a beloved or a friend can be, but it is not the neighbor who holds you fast — it is your love that holds him fast.
A Neighbor (n.) cannot be taken by death: if death takes one, life at once gives you another — for in loving him you are united not with him but with God.
A Neighbor (n.) is seen only with the eye closed, by looking away from differences; the sensual eye always looks at differences.
A Neighbor (n.) at a distance is a figment of imagination, a shadow passing through every man's thought — while the man who really passed by at that moment went unrecognized.
A Neighbor (n.) is the watermark on every sheet: write different things on each page, hold each to the light, and the same mark shows through — visible only in the light of the eternal.
A Neighbor (n.) is the mark of the eternal on every man; difference is the confusion of time that marks each man differently.