Love is a temporary madness.
It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.
And when it subsides you have to make a de
cision.
You have to work out whether your roots have be
come so entwined together
that it is in
con
ceivable that you should ever part.
Be
cause this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness, it is not ex
citement,
it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion.
That is just being in love whi
ch any of us
can
convin
ce 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 a
ccident.
Your mother and I had it,
we had roots that grew towards ea
ch other underground,
and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our bran
ches
we found that we were one tree and not two.
~
captian
corelli's Mandolin.
