Love is a temporary madness; it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides we have to make a decision. We have to work out whether our roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that we should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation 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. Love is the roots that grow towards each other underground, slowly and determined. And when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, we find we are no longer two, but one. One root, One tree, One Love.
> - By Louis de Bernieres, from Captain Corelli's Mandolin