All or nothing at all, the true lover says, and that's the truth of it. My love will never die, he says. He claims eternity. And rightly. How can it die when it's life itself? What do we know of eternity but the glimpse we get of it when we enter in that bond?
Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.
What you love, you will love. What you undertake you will complete. You are a fulfiller of hope; you are to be relied on. But seventeen years give little armor against despair...Consider, Arren. To refuse death is to refuse life.
The bond between true lovers is as close as we come to what endures forever.
Not even need and love can defeat fate...
Love is the true condition of human life.
What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing.