LOVE IS A ROSEFLOWER. In the morning it is dancing in the wind, in the sun, as if it will remain forever, with such grandeur, with such certainty, with such authority. It is so fragile and yet so strong against the wind, against the rain, against the sun. But by the evening the petals have withered away, and the rose is gone. That does not mean that it was illusiory. It simply means that in life everything is change. And change keeps things new, fresh.