If we reason, we would be understood;

if we imagine, we would that the airy children
    of our brain were born anew within another's;
if we feel, we would that another's nerves should vibrate to our own,

that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own,

that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips
    quivering and burning with the heart's best blood.
This is Love.

~The Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley in Verse and Prose


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