Are you seeing anyone romantically?" he inquired.
"No, I'm not," she replied.
"Good. Please keep it that way. Because I intend to ask you to marry me.

And I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.

Love each other or die.

Kids chase the love that eludes them.

Love wins, love always wins.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.