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How doth one describe love? Doth one compare it to a rose, which wilts with time and eventually dies? Or does one liken it unto a diamond, cold, hard and sharp? Perhaps one should compare it to the stars, distant and unattainable. Nay, none of these. For love is like no other thing in this world. True love is soft and beautiful like a rose, but has no thorns and never wilts or dies. It is valuable like a diamond but has no cold sharp edges. It is as bright as any star but is infinitely closer to home. Indeed there is nothing like love in all the world and so no comparison will do. Love is love. No more, and, thankfully, no less. |
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