What is love without the occasional furniture broken through a lovers’ quarrel? What is love without the heat filled intensity with which those lovers bed each other the night following their fight? What is love without them waking up to fight all over again the next day without either knowing why exactly?
When love is not madness, it is not love.
When the lovers stop fighting, and treat each other well all the time, they have fallen out of love. When they no longer argue, love has vanished.
Being in love is living in madness. Take away the insanity and you no longer have the key ingredient.
Pedro Calderón de la Barca y Barreda González de Henao Ruiz de Blasco y Riaño