“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis
"I’m dead,” I said, and I held my arms out to her.
Strips of skin hanging down from my arms like tattered vines. I touched my face a ruin of black blood and smoke and gobbets of gore. A bird landed in a nearby tree, a rust colored sparrow, and the bird had my eyes eating out her head.
“No,” my demon said, “you’re glowing."