"Do you think beauty fades?" she asked him.
"I suppose," he said, though not totally agreeing with the word fade.
"Perhaps it just changes. Or maybe we change. Each year the flowers are different. Are they more beautiful? Less beautiful after a storm? Not for me. I don't know. I guess we all decide that for ourselves."
She hadn't yet gotten to a half smile, and he added, "The world is full of beauty. Everything beneath my wings is spectacular. I mean, really spectacular! But you, my love, your beauty, is flight itself. That can never change. Will never change. And certainly, impossible to fade. You carry me."
She smiled, fully now, the kind that grows and glows from within. She knew she would love him forever, and that was beautiful.