There is love that is like an infant. It must be taken in one's arms; it cannot stand; if it is not taken up it cries. It is not mature; it is not developed; it is not yet love. And then there is love that is like a child that has not yet learned to walk. It has to hold on to the table or the chair to steady it; that love too is undeveloped. But then there is love that stands on its own feet and walks alone; that is independent love, and one can depend upon it.