Now, instead of planting our solitude with our own dream blossoms, we choke the space with continuous music, chatter and companionship to which we do… - Anne Morrow Lindbergh

But the bond — the bond of romantic love is something else. It has so little to do with propinquity or habit or space or time or life itself. It leaps across all of them, like a rainbow — or a glance.

"Beautiful, fragile, fleeting, the sunrise shell; but not, for all that, illusory. Because it is not lasting, let us not fall into the cynic's trap and call it an illusion. Duration is not a test of true or false. The day of the dragon-fly or the night of the Saturnid moth is not invalid simply because that phase in its life cycle is brief. Validity need have no relation to time, to duration, to continuity. It is on another plane, judged by other standards. "And what is actual is actual only for one time and only for one place." The sunrise shell has the eternal validity of all beautiful and fleeting things."

When the heart is flooded with love there is no room in it for fear, for doubt, for hesitation.