I may speak in the tongues of men, even angels; but if I lack love, I have become merely blaring brass or a cymbal clanging.
I may have the gift of prophecy, I may fathom all mysteries, know all things, have all faith - enough to move mountains; but if I lack love, I am nothing.
I may give away everything that I own, I may even hand over my body to be burned; but if I lack love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient and kind, not jealous, not boastful,
not proud, rude or selfish, not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not gloat over other people's sins but takes its delight in the truth.
Love always bears up, always trusts, always hopes, always endures.
Love never ends; but prophecies will pass, tongues will cease, knowledge will pass.
For our knowledge is partial, and our prophecy partial;
but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass.
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, thought like a child, argued like a child; now that I have become a man, I have finished with childish ways.
For now we see obscurely in a mirror, but then it will be face to face. Now I know partly; then I will know fully, just as God has fully known me.
But for now, three things last trust, hope, love; and the greatest of these is love.