I am sent from this garden countless of times through the ages to spread desire and love among mortals, yet I am left empty of my own fulfillment in matters of the heart. I would gladly choose a mortal life if only to know the joy of another. I fear I shall become as cold and unyielding as the statue in my garden if I continue as only an observer in the wonder that is true love. How can it be that I, a bestower of love, have not found the soul-mate of my desire? ~SB