We are all irritated now and then by some mawkish interpretation of our motive force that makes it seem a weakly thing, invoked to help us in evading difficulties instead of conquering them.

Love in any genuine form is strong, vital and warm-blooded.

Let it not be confused with any flabby substitute.

Take a parallel case.

Should we, because of the mawkishness of a "Princess Novelette," deride the beautiful dream that keeps ages wondering and joyous, that is occasionally caught up in the words of genius, as when Shelley sings: "I arise from dreams of thee"?
When foolish people make a sacred thing seem silly, let us at least be sane.
The man who cries out for the sacred thing but voices a universal need.
To exist, the healthy mind must have beautiful things--the rapture of a song, the music of running water, the glory of the sunset and its dreams, and the deeper dreams of the dawn.