On this day in history, St. Valentine banished all snakes from Scotland. And on clear nights, if you listen very closely, you can still hear him riding through Sleepy Hollow, his severed head held aloft, crying out “The British are coming!” Ah, Love!
Who can stand against Love? It is a flying hurricane kick to the heart of misery. It is the cliff face against which sadness is dashed like a sack of unloved kittens. It can break three boards of loathing is one deft chop.
Love is where the Tigris and Euphrates rivers finally meet, and there are birds.
“Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.” -Matt Groening
“Come with me, and we will sail across the sea of love in my magical flying pirate ship, the salty spray in our face, until we are both completely soaked.” -Lord Byron
Love is a magic eye poster. You stare at it in the mall until your eyeballs dry out. Then, unexpectedly, kids throw garbage at you.