Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it 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. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
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 itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
-Louis De Bernieres



















Rach....so good, so good.
(11.15.11 @ 11:04 PM)Rachel, these are great! Oh what I would give for an afternoon with Tina- it has been far too long. Miss all of you.
(11.15.11 @ 11:33 PM)I Love that quote!
(11.16.11 @ 01:45 PM)Love these. So, so much.
(11.18.11 @ 08:44 AM)