They loved each other, not driven by necessity, by the
"blaze of passion" often falsely ascribed to love. They loved
each other because everything around them willed it, the trees
and the clouds and the sky over their heads and the earth
under their feet. Perhaps their surrounding world, the strangers
they met in the street, the wide expanses they saw on their
walks, the rooms in which they lived or met, took more
delight in their love than they did themselves.