In Love

For what is the beloved? She is that which I myself am not. In the act of love, I am pure male, and she is pure female. She is she and I am I, and clasped together with her, I know how perfectly she is not me, how perfectly I am not her, how utterly we are two, the light and the darkness, and how infinitely and eternally not-to-be-comprehended by either of us is the surpassing One we make.

In Love [excerpt]
D.H. Lawrence