“Nature is always magnificent when dealing with the privileges and prerogatives of love. She becomes miserly only when doling out the organs and instruments of labour. She is especially severe on what men have termed virtue, whereas she strews the path of the most uninteresting lovers with innumerable jewels and favours. ‘Unite and multiply; there is no other law, or aim, than love,’ would seem to be her constant cry on all sides, while she mutters to herself, perhaps: ‘and exist afterwards if you can; that is no concern of mine.’ ” – Maurice Maeterlinck, The Life of the Bee

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