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.
- Captain Corelli's Mandolin 6
2 faves · Jul 20, 2011 7:45pm