An extract from Captain Corelli's Mandolin,
Louis de Bernieres
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 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, it is not the desire
to mate every second minute of the day. 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 who truly love
have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty
blossoms have fallen from the branches they find that they are one tree and not
two.
