Love is supposed to move mountains, to make the world go round, to be all you need, but it falls apart at the deatils. It can't save a single person.   — Jodi Picoult

yet

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.  — Mitch Albom