‘What a silly thing love is!’ said the student as he walked away. ‘It is not half as useful as logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is everything, I shall go back to philosophy and study metaphysics.’
So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read. Oscar Wilde, The Nightingale and the Rose, 1888