“How can a person ever be wronged to glorify the power of love? We are nothing without it. Evolution is impossible, without it. For no insect could one day become an elephant, without love. Why do we say that to love, is not realistic? Why do we say of someone in love, they are never realistic? Love is idealistic, and purely so. We are ambitious, in love. We are wishful, in love. We yearn, in love. We sometimes weep for small parts of that love, being shredded away. Love is a glory. It is highest. It cannot be measured. It cannot be fathomed. It cannot be stated as a greater, middling, or a lesser. For there is no competition, in love. We are both strong and weak, at the same time, in love. We are beautiful, fragile, and crippled, in love, because everything is on display for who we trust, the most. Everything is engulfed, in love. Everything is swallowed, in love.
Love is the earthquake that keeps shaking our heart, to the confusion of why that is. We should know it as merely love.”– Modern Romanticism