Blake Morrison in The Guardian argues that "all great literature is by definition anti-Valentine's day literature, because it offers truths that lie too deep for greetings cards".:
To the jaded eye, Valentine's cards look tackier than ever this year. Where Valentine's day was once associated with mating birds (Chaucer: "When every fowl cometh there to choose his mate"; Shakespeare: "Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?"), it has become a menagerie of cuteness, with puppies, mice, kittens ("You're purrfect!") and, overwhelmingly, teddy bears the dominant motifs. In tune with the infantilisation, pairs of children feature widely (boy and girl toddlers in nappies exchanging kisses, and so on), with many a compliment to one's babe, invariably characterised as gorgeous or hot. Snogging has taken over from kissing
"I could snog you for hours
without ever stopping
You're sweeter than chocolate
And more fun than shopping"
and at the smuttier end of the market the word "shag" has crept in, along with risqué body parts
You're scrumptious and you're sexy
You're fabulous and fun
And I'd like to tell you something else
You've got a gorgeous bum"
If greetings cards are a hallmark of the culture, then we're a nation of schmaltzy lunkheads...
And The Telegraph has some SMSs on the lines of: Known u a while. Is it 2 L8/ 2 tell u that I think you’re gr8?/ You’re sucha special friend of mine,/ I want 2 b yr valentine. More Here