Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down;
perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways;
perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music;
perhaps…perhaps…love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship,
as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its sheath.
– Lucy Maud Montgomery, “Anne of Avonlea”
Happy Valentine’s Day.
(I’m pretty sure when Tom reads this his response will be, “No, I would not say that I came into your life ‘like a gay knight riding down’.”)