“ I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems, or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you; so intimate, that your hand upon my chest is my hand; so intimate that when I fall asleep, your eyes close. ”

~ Gabriel García Márquez, “One Hundred Years of Solitude”