I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have
found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good
Angel—I am bound to you by a strong attachment. I think you
good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in
my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of
life, wraps my existence about you—and kindling in pure,
powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.
--Charlotte Bronte
I loved the excerpt from Captain Corelli's mandolin (by Louis de Bernieres) that we used in our wedding:
ReplyDeleteLove 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 root was 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 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.