Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.1 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.2 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.3

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.4 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.5 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.6 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.7