It is less the chess game against Death on the beach that makes The Seventh Seal into an amazing screenplay than this little paragraph:
There are only a couple of poor wretches who die of love once in a while. Love is as contagious as a cold in the nose. It eats
away at your strength, your independence, your morale, if you have any.
If everything is imperfect in this imperfect world, love is most perfect
in its perfect imperfection. (The Seventh Seal, Ingmar Bergman, 1957)