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"You see, my dear, love isn't a feeling; it's a choice. It's the choice to deny yourself the pleasure which you think you deserve, in favour of the respect which deep down you suspect others may be more worthy of than you. It's the choice to put someone else first. Easier said than done -- but every now and then someone will come along for whom it is worth making that sacrifice. If you can love like that, then you will recognise the one you love as treasure hidden in a field, worth selling all you have for -- a sign, a shadow of the True Love that is to come. That is the greatest privilege: to look at another person, even occasionally, with the same delight with which the Universe regards each one of us. If that privilege comes to you, my dear, grab it with both hands -- and never let go.
"But of course, in the meantime," giggled the old lady, "fuck loads. Fucking is good."
And her granddaughter, licking cunt-juice off her fingers, giggled too.
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