![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg58EUBvT6zcAULgqchXNnBWzS7WvwJ-wlVJB8hgNCl_OFv0kk2A0rLJuFKgZhH5m9J2rYk7mj225DGJO7p50ygJh31W5VLd7_u-PIh36lBZ3mL63fKKEpIXN0uI7yaRynFvJ-w2ckuQ16/s400/Harold-Maude.jpg)
I do not pretend that love in its highest form is common, but I do maintain that in its highest form it reveals values which must otherwise remain unknown, and has itself a value which is untouched by scepticism, although sceptics who are incapable of it may falsely attribute their incapacity to their scepticism.
True love is a durable fire,
In the mind ever burning,
Never sick, never dead, never cold,
From itself never turning
[Bertrand Russell]
The Conquest of Happiness, p.23
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