Sometimes I Am A Big Mushball

Outside the back door of the strange cinderblock building where I work is a "designated smoking area" where sometimes I like to huff a lung dart. The ashtrays are under a cement slab overhang and there are some benches nearby. I often find myself in the midst of strange conversations there -- mostly with greiving relatives (I work in a hospital) or lonely elderly folks.
Today there was a young woman sitting on the bench, anxiously clutching her purse. She had large black eyes and was quite lovely. I smiled at her, but she kept kneading her purse and kept peering over her right shoulder. I went back to smoking and trying to remember the exact wording of a quote I like.
Then a tall knight in scrubs and white shining lab coat stepped around the corner. The two raced together and tightly embraced, his chin on top of her head, her head against his chest. I stepped away to give them their privacy.

This is what I thought was the quote I was trying to remember:

We are "made of love, by love, for love to love."

Here is the actual quote:

The Goddess of Love, Aphrodite Herself, has asked me to remind you that you have always been in love. You will always be in love. In fact, it is impossible for you not to be in love. You'd be unable to get out of bed each morning unless there were someone or something that roused your heart and stirred your imagination. So please just admit that you are alive because of love; that you are made of love.

(I read it in my horoscope by Rob Brezny about 2 years ago.)