All love seeks is: love. Yet love little knows that

In seeking love, love enters on an endless search. Since

Love is an endless effort to realize the Ideal. For

Love always beckons over insurmountable barriers to uninhabitable realms;
promises insupportable possibilities; lures to an unimaginable goal. Yet

Love has a myriad counterfeits. And

Men and women interpret the word differently. Even

Different women interpret the word love differently. Thus,

To one woman, love is as the rising of the sun: it shines but once in her
whole life-day; it floods everything with its light; it brightens the
world; it dazzles her.

To another woman, love is as the rising of a star: a fresh one may appear
every hour of her life, and nor she nor her world is one whit affected by
its rays. Indeed, one would hardly err if he said that

Many a woman really does not know whether she is "in love" or not. She
is sought--that she perceives; but which of her seekers is worthiest,
which most zealous, which merely takes her fancy, and which appeals to
her heart--on these matters she meditates long--to the exasperation, of
course, of the individual seeker. Accordingly,