What is love?

Has someone ever asked you why you love them? You can give a safe answer or, if you are brave, perhaps this one

That love is reverence, and worship, and glory, and the upward glance. Not a bandage for dirty sores... Those who speak of love most promiscuously are the ones who've never felt it. They make some sort of feeble stew out of sympathy, compassion, contempt and general indifference, and they call it love. Once you've felt what it menas to love ...--the total passion for the total height--you're incapable of anything less.

That from The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand page 445. Though that is in the old edition I got from the used bookstore.