"Love is a temporary
madness. It
erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make
a decision. You have
to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love
is. Love is not
breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation
of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love"
which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is
left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an
art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots
that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty
blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one
tree and not two."
-St. Augustine