Socrates said: "I ask you to pick a strain of the largest and most golden grain through this piece of rice paddies, but there is a rule that you can’t go back and you can pick only one."
So Plato began to do this. After long time, he came back with nothing. Socrates asked him why he came back with empty-hand?
Plato said: “when I walked in the field, I had seen a few strains with particularly big grain, but I always thought there would be a bigger and better one in front, so that I didn’t pick them up; But I found that the grain I saw is not as good as the last one, and finally I picked nothing.”
Then Socrates meaningfully said: "This is love."
Love isn't finding a perfect person. It's seeing an imperfect person perfectly.
