Love is born with the pleasure of looking at each other,
It is fed with the necessity of seeing each other,
And is concluded with the impossibility of separation.
What is Love?
It’s silence when your words would hurt,
It’s patience when your neighbor’s curt,
It’s defense when the scandal flows,
It’s thoughtfulness for another’s woes,
It’s promptness when stern duty calls,
It’s courage when misfortune falls
He who is in love
is wise and is becoming wiser,
sees newly every time he
looks at the object beloved,
drawing from it with his eyes
and his mind those virtues
which it possesses.
