love is a temporary madness. It erupts
like an earthquake and then subsides. And then 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
art and a fortunate accident. <3