We all have such fateful objects — it may be a recurrent landscape in one case, a number in another — carefully chosen by the gods to attract events of special significance for us: here shall John always stumble; there shall Jane’s heart always break.
This is a confession: I love you… You see, there is no alternative. I have loved you from the minute I saw you… Now, my dearest, dearest, mon cher, cher monsieur, you have read this; now you know. So, will you please, at once, pack and leave.
Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.
Love is patient; love is kind.
Love does not envy;
is not boastful; is not conceited;
does not act improperly; is not selfish;
is not provoked; does not keep a record of wrongs;
finds no joy in unrighteousness,
but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.