"Love is a temporary madness; it erupts like volcanoes and
then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision.
You have to work out whether your roots have 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 eternal passion. That is just being in
love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when
being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a
fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow
towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms
have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree
and not two."