The mind cannot long act the role of the heart. Love is an act of akragames endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit. This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love; the more they give, the more they possess. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along. The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.