so if i speak in the tongues of men and angels, but don't have love, i'm just a resounding gong or clanging cymbal.

if i have the gift of prophecy and can fathom every single mystery and all knowledge, and if i have the faith that moves mountains, but i don't have love, i am nothing.

if i give all that i have to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but i don't have love, i gain nothing.

love is patient.
it's kind and it doesn't envy.
it doesn't boast.
it's not proud, rude, or self-seeking.
love isn't easily angered.
it keeps not one single record of wrongs.
love doesn't delight in evil, rather, love rejoices with the truth.
it always protects.
it always trusts.
it always hopes.
it always preserves.

love never, never, never, never fails.

but where there are prophecies, they will cease.
where there are tongues, they will be stilled.
where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

for we know in part and we prophecy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.

when i was a child, i talked like a child, i thought like a child, i reasoned like a child.
when i became a man, i put childish ways behind me.

now i see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.
now i know in part; but then i shall know fully, even as i am fully known.

and now, these remain:
faith, hope and love.
but the greatest is always love.